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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Note

i am kinda in the mood for some angst~_~

if you are comfortable can i request the side characters reacting to their s/o (mc) was in a middle of a panic attack in front of them and fainted suddenly ?

thank you!

When MC Faints/Has a Panic Attack Scenarios | DIAVOLO, BARBATOS, SIMEON and SOLOMON 3.3k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Angst Content Warnings: Mentions of physical injury/illness and unspecified trauma, protective and possessive thoughts/behaviour, use of pet names.

DIAVOLO

Diavolo doesn’t get as many opportunities as he would like to explore the human world. He mentions wanting to visit there more often, and of course, he wants you to go with him. When you jokingly offer to join him as his tour guide (and his friend, and his lover), he has to balance his reckless sense of adventure with the responsibilities of being a prince.

With some gentle persuasion from both of you, Barbatos agrees that it's acceptable for his young master to indulge in a well-earned vacation. Occasionally.

(There may be extra paperwork waiting for Diavolo on his desk when he returns, but he reminds himself that it’s worth it to spend more time with you.)

Diavolo’s enthusiasm knows no bounds. You show him brochures for the amusement park you’re taking him to - the largest in your home country - and he’s already made a list of all the rides he wants to go on and the special attractions he wants to see.

You’ve been there before, and you brace yourself for a long, busy day.

You arrive together when the park gates open, and it’s an endless circuit of ride after ride after even more rides. It’s a sunny, humid summer day and by noon you’re dripping sweat and trying to reapply sunscreen with shaky hands. The concession stands make a fortune from the overpriced bottled water Diavolo buys for you, but it seems like your throat is parched beyond relief.

Diavolo’s current interest is the park's inverted upside-down roller coaster. You've been on this ride in the past and enjoyed it, but for some reason you feel a sense of dread while you wait for your turn in line. The scorching heat blazing on the back of your neck and shoulders does you no favours.

When it's your turn at the front of the line, Diavolo helps you into your seat before he sits next to you. He dangles his legs and kicks his feet happily when the floor lowers away.

As your seats slowly stutter up the steel track towards the first big hill, your eyes start to blur and you try to blink the sensation away. The ride has you twisting and rolling through the air at incredible speeds, but it feels like you’re still falling in an infinite drop.

When the ride comes to an abrupt stop, Diavolo laughs and offers you his hand when you stumble out of your seat. You follow him as best you can, but the world seems to tilt. He smiles when he feels you lean against him. He’s about to ask if you want to get in line and ride the roller coaster again, but you don’t answer - he catches you when you start to fall.

The amusement dies on his lips and he scoops you into his arms. He carries you through the crowd until he ducks behind a concession stall out of view of potential onlookers. He looks around discreetly before using teleportation magic to take you back to the Devildom.

As soon as you materialize in the Demon Lord’s castle, he shouts for Barbatos and kneels with you on the ground so he can examine you. He doesn't understand what's wrong. Your eyes are open but they’re unfocused. You’re talking, sort of - it’s more like incoherent mumbling under your breath, but he thinks you’re trying to say his name. He brushes his lips across your forehead and cheeks and it suddenly occurs to him that you feel so warm.

He thinks about all the times you mentioned that you disliked the summer heat in your home country, that you would get dizzy in the sweltering humidity. You didn’t like being in the sun for too long and he teased you about how often you were reapplying your "sun block."

Diavolo feels like a failure for not being more considerate of your needs. He watches helplessly as a royal healer kneels down and begins casting restorative magic on your weakened form. Diavolo promises himself he’s not going to let something like this happen to you again - not if he can help it.

(He won’t know until later that you saw a humidex warning pop up on your phone the morning of your trip, but you didn't want to cancel for his sake.)

After Barbatos consults Solomon and verifies that you simply need to rest and to stay cool and hydrated, Diavolo carries you to his room. He lays you on the bed you share and curls against your side protectively. He murmurs apologizes over and over again into your shoulder while he squeezes your hand in his.

BARBATOS

Barbatos worries about you when his responsibilities to Diavolo take him far away from you.

Sometimes you accompany him on trips that allow you to explore parts of the realm beyond the bustling metropolis you're used to. He likes seeing your giddy excitement when he can show you something new, something you might not have seen if it wasn’t for him.

Other times, he’s forced to leave you behind. Some of the destinations are simply too unwelcoming for a human with your sensitive disposition. This particular excursion is related to royal matters and lacks the fun sightseeing opportunities he wants to share with you.

After nearly a week, he’s restless with the anticipation of seeing you again. He’s not sure whether to be irritated that he’s been gone from you for so long, or excited that soon he’ll be by your side once more.

Diavolo delights in teasing his friend and insists it’s a bit of both.

Barbatos won't argue with his young master when he begrudgingly agrees.

You’ve had plenty of work to fill your spare time since Barbatos’s departure. It’s exam season once again at RAD and you’re being held to even higher standards than before because of your status as a sorcerer. When you’re not studying for exams, you’ve been helping Lucifer with student council affairs, or accompanying Solomon on human world excursions related to the Sorcerer’s Society.

Barbatos feels the first inklings of concern when you send him messages in the middle of the night, long past your usual bedtime.

“I’m catching up on these study materials Satan gave me then I’ll go to bed, promise!”

You wake up each morning with a greeting from him; Barbatos wishes you a pleasant day and he reminds you to eat something. He doesn’t like your bad habit of skipping breakfast. Since he’s been gone, he suspects that you’ve started skipping or delaying your other meals, too.

“I grabbed a snack in the cafeteria before class, I had a meeting at lunch time.”

“There’s a witches dispute Solomon would like help resolving, I’ll eat dinner when I get back.”

Barbatos is tempted to send Lucifer and Solomon thinly-veiled threats that their impositions on your time shouldn’t affect your well-being to this degree.

When he asks you one evening if they're putting too much pressure on you, you insist that things will go back to normal once exams are finished and he returns with Diavolo. You promise that you're eating and sleeping enough and he doesn't have to worry.

He decides not to involve himself directly unless you ask him to, and of course you don't.

When Lucifer calls him unexpectedly on the second-last night of his trip, he realizes that he should’ve gotten involved after all.

Barbatos is standing quietly at his young master's side while Diavolo mingles with guests at a dinner party. When his D.D.D. starts buzzing, Barbatos is surprised when he sees Lucifer's name flash across the screen. He excuses himself and heads to an empty balcony so he can take the call privately.

Lucifer skips all pleasantries and small talk when he answers. “Before I say anything else, I would like to emphasize that they’re fine—“

Barbatos’s breath hitches and the heart you insist he has, the one that beats for only for you, cracks in his chest. “Tell me what’s happened.”

Lucifer explains that you had some sort of fainting episode - he mentions stress and lack of sleep and something Solomon called low blood sugar, but Barbatos can barely concentrate on what he says over the dull roar in his ears.

Barbatos senses his young master behind him, and he hopes his expression is perfectly neutral when they exchange glances. Lucifer must’ve sent Diavolo a message about your condition as well because he looks at Barbatos worriedly; his young master is fond of you, too.

Before Barbatos can ask more questions about how you’re doing now, and what they’re doing to take care of you, and how Lucifer and Solomon would like to be punished when he returns, Diavolo motions for him to pass over his phone.

“Barbatos will be arriving shortly to evaluate the situation on my behalf,” his young master informs Lucifer before wishing him a goodnight and hanging up the call.

“But my Lord, the meeting with the dignitaries—“

Diavolo shakes his head and smiles at his oldest friend. “The meeting isn’t until tomorrow afternoon. It gives you plenty of time to visit and make sure they’re alright. Stay with them tonight and return in the morning if you’re satisfied their condition has improved.”

Barbatos knows it’s a blatant disregard of his duties to the young Prince to leave him so suddenly because of his personal matters.

He also knows it’s the height of unprofessionalism to leave his master’s side so abruptly.

Barbatos knows he’s a hypocrite, but he barely waits a moment longer before he teleports himself to the House of Lamentation to be with you.

SIMEON

Simeon loves sharing perfect moments of domestic bliss with you.

It doesn’t matter when or where - Purgatory Hall, the Angel’s Halo café, the human world apartment he secretly keeps just for the two of you - he wants nothing more than to nourish your body and soul with simple, cozy gestures that prove his love for you.

His responsibilities to the Celestial Realm, the petty orders from Michael that have him travelling all over the three realms, have kept him busy lately. He misses you desperately and he’s frustrated when he wants to see you but he can’t.

You’ve tried to teach him how to use this D.D.D. for times like this, so you could send each other pictures or make video calls when the longing becomes too unbearable.

(His own technological skills are still a work in progress but he cherishes whatever you send him.)

But one day he asks you how you are, and you mention very casually that you don’t feel well, and he has to remind himself not to panic.

Lucifer would have contacted him right away if it were something serious - right?

Simeon calls Lucifer afterwards to check on your condition (knowing about your habit of downplaying your problems not to worry him), but Lucifer assures him that everything is under control.

That's not good enough. Not for you. Simeon calls in some favours with his fellow angels and manages to secure a couple days’ off from his responsibilities so he can come see you.

Simeon couldn’t be more thrilled when he arrives at the House of Lamentation the next morning. He gets to care for you personally while Lucifer and his brothers are at RAD all day. Any time he spends with you is special, but alone time together is the most precious to him - it's a luxury he greedily indulges in, when he has the chance.

When he arrived, he brewed you a cup of herbal tea before you laid down together for some much-needed snuggling. You insisted he didn't need to go to all this trouble for you, but he winked and insisted that he wanted to spoil you.

Your stomach growls and it seems like a good time to think about making something to eat. When you rise from your bed on shaky legs, Simeon wraps an arm around your waist to support you. He thinks you look a little pale, but you tell him you’re fine. He heads to the kitchen to start making food for both of you while you slip into your ensuite bathroom to shower before lunch is ready.

Simeon is chopping vegetables when he hears the first dull thud. He sets down his knife and frowns, walking closer to the shared wall that separates your room and the kitchen. After a moment, there’s another thud that’s even louder. And then another, the loudest noise yet.

He rushes out of the kitchen and heads to your bedroom. He can hear the quiet hiss of the water running through the door that leads to your private bathroom, but you don’t answer when he calls your name. He tests the doorknob - you left it unlocked, thankfully - and he steps inside. He waves the steam away from his face and he calls your name again. You don’t say anything, but your pained groan is just as worrisome as silence.

When Simeon pulls back the shower curtain, you’re sitting at the bottom of the tub and slumped against the side. The bottles of toiletries you dropped - or knocked over - are scattered around you. He fumbles with the faucet to turn off the water spraying at your back, and he tilts your head up so he can look at you properly. Your eyes are glazed over and unfocused, but your hand - your poor, trembling hand - reaches up and tugs weakly at his sleeve.

“M’dizzy,” you whisper. Your voice wavers and the words slur together.

He rests his forehead against yours. “I’m here, my love,” he murmurs quietly to comfort you - and himself.

Simeon reaches for one of your towels hanging on the wall behind him, and he wraps it around your shoulders. He maneuvers you as gently as he can so he can lift you out of the tub and cradle you against his chest. He tries to dry you off while he rocks you in his hold, humming under his breath to soothe you. He pauses every so often so he can kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.

You’re too tired to be embarrassed by the way he carries you back to your bed, helping you put on warm pajamas and tucking you into the blankets like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

(You are.)

After you rest, Simeon tells you that it was a low grade fever that probably caused your dizziness. The feeling gradually fades and as evening approaches, you don’t feel lightheaded anymore. He’s reluctant to leave your side, and he cares for all of your needs personally: providing you with cool water and warm herbal teas; making healing potions to help with your headache and sore throat; and cooking soft but nourishing foods to keep you full.

When Lucifer and his brothers return from RAD and insist on seeing you, Simeon sends them away from your room with hushed suggestions to leave you alone and be quiet. His words are polite, but the dangerous glint in his eye promises pain for those that might disturb you.

No one can take care of you better than he can.

SOLOMON

Shopping with Solomon in the human world is always a fun adventure. You’re at a mall in your hometown (your home-away-from-the-Devildom) and giggling at Solomon’s baffled expression. He examines a vending machine full of large, colourful cake slices and other desserts. You shake your head when he points to the rainbow-coloured cake slice he offers to buy for you. He takes a picture of the display and sends it to Luke before he reaches for your hand.

Your goal today is to buy a birthday present for Asmodeus. You have a small list of makeup and body care to buy for him, all made with scents or ingredients that are unique to the human world. You probably could’ve used Akuzon to import the items you want to buy - but where’s the fun in that?

Solomon offers to carry your shopping bags for you, and you link your arms together while you stroll lazily through the mall. Every time he spots something in a store window he thinks you'd like - a shirt that compliments your eyes or complexion, or a lovely piece of jewelry - he has the urge to spoil you. He glances at you with half-lidded eyes and tries his best to convince you that yes, you would like your lover to buy that for you as a gift. Your usual response is to roll your eyes at him while he grins.

(He's adding all those items to a mental list of gifts to buy you later.)

He stops outside a large boutique when he spots something in the window he wants to pick up for Asmo. You nod your head towards the bubble tea shop next door and tell him you’re going to grab a drink while he picks up his shopping. He promises to come find you when he’s done and he steps inside while you head towards the line-up nearby.

It can’t be more than a minute or two when Solomon feels you next to him while he’s browsing a rack of colourful blouses, looking for one in Asmo’s size.

“Did you miss me that much?” Solomon glances at you with a teasing smirk, but he frowns when he sees the expression on your face.

You’re not looking at him. Your wide, frightened eyes are staring where you came from, the entranceway that leads back to the mall. Your hand on his shirt clenches into a fist, and you’re trembling.

Solomon drops the bags on his arms and reaches for you. When he pulls you against him, he can feel your shallow, panicky breaths when you pant into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you imploringly. He cups your cheeks and forces you to look at him. Tears are welling in your eyes and when you blink, they start to trickle down your face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head and he doesn’t know what to do to comfort you. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re afraid he’s going to disappear. He can barely make out your gasping whisper: “I need to get out of here.”

He rubs his hand up and down your back soothingly. He walks both of you back towards the change rooms where there’s more privacy, and when he’s sure no one is looking, he disappears both of you back to his home in the human world.

Even in the comfort of his front hallway, you're still shivering and your breathing is quick, panicky and uneven. He encourages you to match his deep breaths, and he reminds you that you’re safe and that he’s here for you. The erratic beat of your heart eventually calms down, and you look up from where you were hiding your face in his chest.

“There’s my darling love,” he whispers when he cups your cheek. Both of you have red, tear-stained eyes now. He brushes his lips against your forehead.

“I’m sorry I ruined our shopping trip,” you whisper hoarsely.

But Solomon shakes his head and hugs you again. “You didn’t ruin anything.” He waits a moment before he asks quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You tense in his arms and shake your head ‘no.’

Solomon doesn’t mention what happened at the mall, and he spends the rest of the night holding you close and taking care of you. When he offers to go back the next day to repurchase the items you left behind, he knows better than to ask if you want to go with him. The very mention of that place causes fear to creep into your eyes, and it nearly breaks his heart.

It's several days later, after you both return to the Devildom, and he notices that you're still incredibly anxious about something. You glance around nervously in public, and sometimes you stare off into space with a slightly haunted look in your eyes.

Solomon’s not sure who or what you saw that day, but for the first time since he met you, he feels utterly powerless.

#obey me dateables #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #gn!reader

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aliceattheart · 3 months

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Can I request a Yandere Alastor, Vox, and Valentino(separate) please?

Yan! Hazbin Hotel x AFAB reader

Yeah! I totally don't mind at all :]

Sadly at the moment the only character I feel comfortable with writing for is Alastor. I don't know much about Vox and Valentino. I do apologize 😭

I kinda skimmed it for slight spelling mistakes. All in all, I got it done. :D

Yan! Alastor

Alastor is deadly obsessed with your scent. That's what led the Doll maker to you. His little Doll.

Alastor is sickened with existential possessive tranquility. To gaze at your smile only makes him yearn for your touch.

It was only a matter of time before he put his nerves beside and spoke to you. "Well hello there Miss, may I aquire a little bit of your precious time." Kissing the back of your hand. The charmer he appears to be. With a mouth full of sharp teeth and sharp claws. You found it weird that he was so gentle.

You have no one to blame for failing madly in love with his elegant charm and sweet voice. A voice that carried endless symphonies of love and no regrets.

You were content with his lack of Physical affection but none the less you did want to embrace and fall into his lips. He would give in every now and again but you couldn't shake of the somber ravenous guilty of intimacy.

Deciding that you couldn't keep a facade, you wanted to break things off. "Y/n, my Moon in the Red sky. Are you saying you don't want me?" When he put it that way you feel disgusted with yourself. But you can't give in.

"Alastor, my heart yearns for something more. Something you can't give. It's not because you've failed to love me. I'm just greedy and selfish."

The last words that came out of your mouth. Did you really mean it? After that you started to spill like an over flowing sink. Words you've never thought came out. "I was wrong for ever thinking of leaving you. I'll stay with you for all eternity, even if I don't have that. In death I wouldn't want to part from you." You were confused and apparently your mouth wasn't listening to your wants and demands.

Alastor sat facing you with big dark eyes, smiling benevolently at you. Opening his mouth to speak he said. "Y/n, you are my muse I can't just let you run off. No need to think or hide away. Let's keep you as my favorite Doll for all eternity, please?" He formed it as a question but in reality he wasn't giving you a choice.

With a snap of his fingers your body became silent to your pleads for movement. Alastor humming a tune, picked you up. You felt like a sack of potatoes heavy, yet weightless in his arms. Opening a demon circle to his residence. He proceeds to take you to his basement. Strapping you into a chair.

"My Sweet Doll Face. He whispered into your left ear. "This will only hurt for a while. I shall break you and put you back together. For my love for you is true. You shall move to my wishes and mine alone. Your heart shall not want for more." He kissed your lips. And sewn them shut.

For the first time in all your existence you wanted to beg for mercy, to god. Irony isn't, you couldn't speak.

Alice here :D

I this would be my first ever request. I want to make it short. In the future I'll specify the characters I right for. I pray that I'll be able to build the courage and make a Master list.

#alastor x reader #yandere #yancore #hazbin hotel #dead dove do not eat #fanfic

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chuuyasheaven · 7 months

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❤️ Rei's Kinktober ❤️

Notes !! Firstly, this is my first kinktober, and I’m literally so excited??? I didn’t know what it was until like two years back but I was always late to it, well not this year!! Besides, this will be different like any other you guys will see so just sit back, relax, and enjoy reading this nasty stuff !!!! Rules !! 01. For each weekday will be drabbles written for, except for sundays, those will probably be a short fic or whatever.

02. If you didn’t notice, the names were listed down in alphabetical order, because it’s fun. But also, for each week (or category) will be the characters written for which I think fit in the week. It might occur that some will be there more than once, but my list isn’t that long tbh. .

03. THIS IS AN NSFW EVENT, in case you didn’t know. But we don’t judge here, meaning if I make any grammar errors or take longer to post, I do NOT want to hear anything about it. Thank you !!!!

Week one : “I LIKE ‘EM NASTY !!” — Rough Sex.

01.10 — “Tamin’ bad girls !!” with Akutagawa Ryunosuke !!

02.10 — “Goin’ feral !!” with Atsushi Nakajima !!

05.10 — “Disobedient wife !!” with Fyodor Dostoevsky !!

07.10 — “Endless denial” with Jouno Saigiku !!

08.10 — “Keepin’ you in place !!” with Nikolai Gogol !!

Week two : “I WANT ‘EM SWEET !!” — Soft/Passionate Sex.

10.10 — “Cockwarmin’ cuddles !!” with Atsushi Nakajima !!

11.10 — "Mornin' ride" with Chuuya Nakahara !!

13.10 — “Takin’ a break !!” with Edgar Allen Poe !!

14.10 — “Reassurin’ his wife” with Odasaku Sakunosuke !!

15.10 — “Birthday present” with Ranpo Edogawa !!

Week three : “I LIKE ‘EM SUBMISSIVE !!” — sub! men.

16.10 — “Virgin killer” with Akutagawa Ryunosuke !! 17.10 — “Under the influence” with Chuuya Nakahara !! 20.10 — “Thigh lover” with Dazai Osamu !!

21.10 — “Stress relievin’” with Edgar Allen Poe !!

22.10 — “Special candy” with Ranpo Edogawa !!

Week four : “I WANT ‘EM TWICE !!” — threesomes.

24.10 — "Outsmartin' failed" with Fyozai !! 26.10 — “Seekin’ comfort” with Shin Soukoku !!

28.10 — “Competition” with Soukoku !!

29.10 — “Missin’ information” with Suegiku !!

Halloween :

31.10 — “Bittersweet torture” with Fyolai !!!

IM LITERALLY SO EXCITED ⁉️

#bsd smut #Rei’s Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️#dazai smut #atsushi smut #fukuzawa smut #nikolai smut #fyodor smut #chuuya smut #odasaku smut #jouno saigiku smut #tetchou smut #poe smut #ranpo smut #kunikida smut #akutagawa smut #bungo stray dogs smut

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lucrezianoin · 7 months

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Astarion-centric fics recs (49 fanfics)

I will divide them by ship. They are all complete unless specified. Also, if a fic is not here it does not mean that I did not like it, I could have forgotten it or just not seen it given that there is a lot of Astarion content!

Just make sure to read all the tags warnings when you open the AO3 page. I added the non-ship focused but Cazador focused ones at the end.

Also it feels weird to rec my own fics, but in case you want to read astarion h/c I am writing you can find me here at LadyRagnelle (for now all DarkUrge or Tav/Astarion).

Regarding if this reclist might be useful for you... there are a lot of Astarion fics, a lot of tags used and a lot of preferences! I have a very particular preference for a specific kind of fic (h/c, whump, softness, mainly) and in the case of Astarion I tend to not read nsfw, usually. So if you have been around my blog and you think we might share fics preferences... maybe these are the fics for you too! I will update this post with time.

I am trying to add a small description to all the fics, but I prioritized adding the links, so some of them do not have a description yet, but they were beloved in my bookmarks.

GEN (no ship)

Prying eyes (unsupermarket) - One of my absolute favorite. Karlach and Astarion share one of Astarion's nightmares (thanks to the tadpoles).

Reflecting endless down the hall (Asidian) - Each chapter is dedicated to one of the companions and the way they interact with Astarion, each chapter connected to a part of his past and trauma.

TAV (OR DARK URGE)/ASTARION

After all that I can do for them is done (votiveviscera)

To Aid and be aided (Beppoberry) - Post Cazador, taking care of each other.

Between the lines (Slothquisitor) - Amazing story about Tav gifting Astarion books.

Broken mechanism (laquearia) - Character study on Astarion's "Don't touch me".

Copper blood and silver hearts (netherprince)

The darkest corner of Baldur's Gate (Nebulad)

(Don't) lose your head (CL34R)

Don't you hear me praying? (ridgeline) - Short haunting story about Astarion's trauma.

And his pretty hand hold my leash (osiris_ryes) - one of the few nsfw fics in this rec list. This has some amazing Dark Urge writing and manages to use nsfw scene without ignoring the consent issues present in the game.

Hold me without hurting (fairbutnotsomaiden) - Astarion disassociates, Tav is kind.

I could feel my life begin (Flowercitti)

I have a good place to hide (Flowercitti)

I know how this will end (MyFandomCausesHanaji) - Amazing Dark Urge story about Durge trying to stop themselves from killing Astarion - and reliving the same day over and over.

A long dead pulse (enthugger) - Post-Cazador, Tav takes care of Astarion.

Made / Unmade (Adaphyl)

Mortal shortfall (titasylase) - Giving a gift to Astarion + act 1 angst, perfect combination.

Not something that I was but what I played (WitchyBee)

Out of wine and flowers (enthugger)

Porcelain (cweepa) - Astarion is sick, and he really cares about how he looks. Absolutely stunning story full of very delicate hurt/comfort and angst. I've reread this so many times.

Savages (cweepa) - Astarion finds a kitten.

Seducere (Tlon) - This is THE fanfic. I remember waiting every night for the new chapter. It narrates Astarion's past and his present in the game. Heartbreaking and haunting.

Specter (justfortune) - post game fanfic about Tav and Astarion's new life together, with some interesting concepts about personal space and sharing life.

Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream (Flowercitti) - I love Flowercitti's stories so so much. This one is specifically about consent. Please, read all their fics.

Vanity items (Flowyen) - Incomplete fic, but still amazing. Just Astarion receiving genuine compliments.

You only feel it when it’s lost (gettin’ through still has a cost) (Flowercitti) - Flowercitti's Tav takes care of Astarion after Cazador.

The way you are (imprinted on a page) (cryptidvaquero) - Tav draws Astarion as a gift.

Was it something you ate (Anoke)

Water down what I call being grateful (Flowercitti) - This fic was written for one of my prompts. I will be eternally grateful because I love stories that deal with looking right through Astarion's seductions.

HALSIN/ASTARION

Animal I have become (Ulfrsmal)

Free (Faetality)

Handmande (BerlinBelin) - One of my favourite, absolutely stunning series about touch starved Astarion trying to ask (with difficulty) fo non-sexual intimacy.

Known in its aching (BerlinBerlin) - sick fic with so much tenderness.

Never gonna fall for (modern love) (Dwinkle) - Halsin offers Astarion his blood.

Through sneers and words snide (BerlinBelin)

HALSIN/TAV/ASTARION

Working on it (casswathever) - Very well written series with multiple fics, I particularly loved the relationship discussions.

WYLL/ASTARION

To die with you (WaterSeraphim)

A dream of sweet things (Asidian) - delicious h/c, trust issues and some nightmares too.

Innocence died screaming (Flowercitti) - Wyllstarion fic that starts from Astarion's past with Cazador, from his turning into a spawn. Ongoing.

KARLACH/ASTARION

Repairs (Asidian) - Heartbreakingly angsty fic about Karlach finding her touch again and Astarion expecting their first night to go a certain way.

The Things you miss (Asidian) - A very sweet fic about Karlach and Astarion interacting.

ASTARION/SEBASTIAN

A lyric on your tongue (justfortune) - Sebastian and Astarion meet.

GALE/ASTARION

The heat is only skin deep (ThatKorka)

POLY

Sharing (Asidian) - a touch of angst, touch starved characters, act 1 spoilers so slightly present consent issues.

CAZADOR-FOCUSED (no secondary ship)

Fake it (deerna)

Lost and never found (arenathesia)

Thou art mine (sophos) - The story of Astarion learning how to keep Cazador happy.

your reflection can't offer a word (to the bliss of not knowing yourself) (undermounts)

#astarion #halsin #wyllstarion #karlach #karlachastarion #dark urge #my fav fics #fic recs #astarion fic recs #fanfics #bg3 spoilers #mind the tags please #cazador

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orionsangel86 · 16 days

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Death Appreciation Week!

With Dead Boy Detectives hitting our screens on the 25th April, and with our girl Death of the Endless making a guest appearance, it seemed only fitting that we should celebrate her in the run up to the show's release.

So I will be running a Death Appreciation Week from Thursday 18th April to Thursday 25th April which will be a celebration of all things Death of the Endless!

Participation is easy. You can go through the prompt list below, and choose to create in whichever way you feel most comfortable. I am keeping this event as flexible as possible so the prompts aren't tied to set days, you just go for whatever you feel most inspired by whenever you can make the time and ideally if you are able to complete a prompt of your choosing each day of the event well then you are a star and I love you!

Prompt List

Death and Family - Dysfunctional as they may be the Endless are a family unit, and their parents are even worse.

Death and Mortals - Some have won her favour, others have slipped through her grasp.

Death and Immortals - even the God's must meet her in the end.

Death and Relationships - Who doesn't flirt with Death on occassion?

Lessons Learned - Death's words of wit and wisdom.

Death the Fashionista - She's rocked many looks over the years, but she's always been a goth fashion icon.

A Day with Death - every 100 years she takes mortal form.

The Sound of Her Wings - lets not forget she has them!

"A Cold Stuck-Up Bitch" - It's a long endless lifetime - Death's early years and how she's changed.

Death Tarot - a symbol of transformation, of change, and even of hope?

Rules for Participation

All types of fanworks are permitted. Fanart, fanfics, gifsets, meta analysis, polls, even just sharing your fave comic panels or official artwork is fine. The goal is to celebrate this amazing character in all her forms.

For your work to qualify for submission to the event, it has to prominantly feature Death of the Endless as the primary focal point. Whilst I encourage exploring her relationships with other characters, the point is to highlight Death as the central character in the work.

the hashtag #Death Appreciation Week must be tagged in all works for the event.

Anything goes! I welcome all ships, all types of work, all themes and content. NSFW is absolutely fine if that's your jam. We don't kinkshame here either. So long as everything is clearly tagged you can literally create what you want.

The prompt list is just a guide for inspiration but literally any fanworks that focus on Death can be included. You don't have to follow prompts if you don't want to.

This is a love fest for Death - which means no hate, discrimination, exclusion, etc. Please also keep criticisms and complaints out of the event tag.

Death of the Author - this is my Neil Gaiman Keep Out sign. As much as I love the guy, this is a fan event and I do not consent to anyone tagging the author in my posts. If he somehow finds it on his own thats on him lol, but please don't tag him.

Most importantly HAVE FUN - and share this post. Signal Boost please!

If you have any questions about the event, the prompts, or anything, please send me an ask or a dm. I'm happy to answer anything and help as much as needed.

With love and thanks to @seiya-starsniper for the awesome banner, and @marlowe-zara and @tryan-a-bex for their ideas and support. <3

#death appreciation week #death of the endless #the sandman #dead boy detectives #fandom events

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cnt-21 · 1 month

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Endless Nighttime Sky

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x f!reader

summary: feyd-rautha was never supposed to be a harkonnen.

wc: 2240

warnings: angst, canon typical violence, referenced sex, references to the baron being a creep, major character death

a/n: i merged pt 2 movie feyd and book feyd bc my antidepressants won’t let me sleep or cry or feel so now we all suffer

⟢

Feyd-Rautha’s life has never been colorful, even before his Uncle brought him and his brother to Giedi Prime after the incident. But Lankiveil was a different type of colorless than Giedi Prime. Endless snow and endless sea and endless sky were only ever interrupted by the occasional building or boat or cloud, it was a natural absence of color. On Giedi Prime, color wasn’t absent, rather, it was stolen. Extinguished by the light of the black sun.

As a child, he could step outside and see the pink of his skin, the blue of the sea, and her cerise colored lips stretched into a smile. Feyd tried not to think of such things underneath the black sun of Giedi Prime, focusing instead on the blades in his hands, the rush of blood in his veins, and the roar of the crowd as he cut down his opponent. It’s easy in the arena, watching the blood seep out of wounds of the fighting men, like watching ink bleed across paper.

As the second son of a second son, Feyd shouldn’t have been the heir to anything, let alone his Uncle’s Barony, but his Uncle’s preferences and his brother’s violent tendencies all but shoved the title of na-Baron into his lap. He wishes he could’ve kept his mother’s name, wishes the name Rabban hadn’t been tainted by his degenerate brother, wishes he hadn’t been corrupted by the Harkonnen name.

Glossu was supposed to be Uncle’s heir. Glossu “Beast” Rabban should’ve been na-Baron Glossu Harkonnen. Glossu was supposed to go to Giedi Prime by himself, and Feyd wouldn’t have had to learn to fight as a gladiator, to hide poison needles in his clothes, to seek comfort in pleasure slaves and pain. Feyd-Rautha Rabban would’ve learned how to navigate using the stars and how to sail the icy seas and how to love his wife, a girl promised to him since conception.

He thinks he already did love her, when he was a child and still the future Count of Lankiveil and she was the future Countess. He remembers her fondly with a burning behind his eyes and a tightness in his chest that he suppresses because that is a weakness he cannot afford. But sometimes when he’s alone, after a fight or a fuck or another filler, he allows himself to think of cold nights. Whale fur kept the two of them dry and warm in the snow as they made their way to the lighthouse. They’d race up the stairs and he would win every time because his legs were slightly longer and he could take two at a time and only trip once.

The door to the gallery was heavy, but he’d manage to open it before she could catch up with him. He would hold it open for her until she joined him outside, and they’d laugh at their mingling breath visible in the frigid air before leaning against the railing, uncaring of whether or not the old metal could hold their combined weight. She would point at which constellations were visible in the sky and list off the most memorable stars. Feyd would listen even though he already knew which constellations were out and every star in each one, not just the brightest or prettiest sounding, because he was the future Count of Lankiveil and he would need to know those things. But letting her talk meant he could watch her, admire her red nose, rosy cheeks, cerise smile, and messy hair.

Feyd can’t remember which stars she had chosen to name their children after, can’t even remember which constellations were visible on Lankiveil from the Rabban manse. Giedi Prime is far, surrounded by different constellations, different stars, and polluted with millennia of industry. Even if he looked to the sky, there wouldn’t be any stars to name.

He doesn’t think of stars in the arena. Or even the black sun and the colors it stole. He focuses on the blades in his hand, the drugged Atreides soldiers he is meant to kill, and Lady Margot Fenring. Except one of the soldiers isn’t drugged. It’s not really a problem, Feyd is an excellent fighter. Gladiator fights are mere public training matches for him. It’s been years since he struggled against anyone in a fight. But it’s unexpected, which means someone planned to catch him off guard. He would accuse Glossu if he thought his brother had the intelligence to come up with such a plan. It could only be his Uncle and that twisted Mentat of his.

The sober soldier’s movements are too exact, missing the sluggish, inaccurate movements of intoxication. If he were a lesser man he’d let his surprise affect his fighting, slip up, make a mistake, but he was trained for this. The fireworks go off, signaling his victory with inky explosions in the sky, all color and brightness consumed by the black hole sun, and Feyd represses the memories of his first fight—not in the arena, but at home. On Lankiveil, in the snow, him against Glossu.

Lady Margot Fenring proves to be an excellent comfort. She provides the necessary pain and pleasure while he’s free to relinquish control. But he’s grown too accustomed to the almost inhuman appearance of those on Giedi Prime. Their hairless, paper white skin, dilated pupils, androgynous figures. It’s easy to lose track of who is who, to pretend the pain and pleasure is entirely him, that he is whole. But Lady Margot Fenring doesn’t subscribe to the beauty standards of Giedi Prime. In the unnatural lighting of his chambers, he can see the pink of her skin, her pupil surrounded by her iris, and the peach fuzz on her arms.

When Lady Margot Fenring leaves, Feyd allows himself to remember the girl that would have been his wife. They would have been married by now. It would’ve been a winter wedding regardless of season because there was always a pileup of snow near the Rabban manse. Her dress would have been as white as the snow, made of silk and lined with whale fur to keep warm, and dripping in diamonds and pearls. She’d be a woman grown, bust and waist filled out, but her nose red, cheeks rosy, and her cerise colored lips curved in a smile. They’d consummate their marriage in the warmth of the Rabban manse and he’d have his own future Count of Lankiveil on the way.

Feyd can understand the economic allure of Arrakis, but actually being on the desert planet feels wrong. He was born on the snowy seaside, the complete opposite of Arrakis. Dry heat feels uncomfortable on his skin, reminding him of the warnings his parents told him about frostbite, becoming so cold you believe you're overheating. But his presence was necessary, otherwise his Uncle’s scheming for him to end up on the throne would all be for naught.

He’s not particularly worried when Arrakeen is attacked. When he’s rounded up with the Emperor and his people to meet the leader of the fremen, the one they call Muad’Dib, he allows the guards to take his weapons and ignores the one that openly glares at him with pure loathing. He stands at the back of the crowd, vaguely listening to the apparently not dead Paul Atreides bicker with the old crone before addressing the Emperor. It’s much the same drivel as before, until—

“Majesty, is there a Harkonnen among you?”

“I believe my entourage has been placed under the protection of your ducal word.”

And again Atreides begins his bickering with the Emperor, setting a trap until he gets what he wants.

“Kanly!”

Feyd has grown tired of this.

“Your father named his vendetta, Atreides. You call me a coward while you hide among your women and offer to send a lackey against me!”

There is no black hole sun on Arrakis to steal away the color, no blades in his hand to wield against inebriated flesh, no pleasure for comfort. Only pain.

The Emperor and his truthsayer discuss the rules of kanly. Atreides’ own people try to talk him out of the challenge.

“Is the Atreides ready?” Feyd called once the Emperor’s blade sat alone on the floor, everyone else cleared away for the ritual duel.

“May thy knife chip and shatter!” Atreides forwent the ritual words, gesturing for Feyd to pick up the Emperor’s blade.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd mocked, getting a feel for the knife in his hand.

“Shall we fight, cousin?” Atreides asked, cat-footing forward with his own blade in hand, crouched low to the floor.

“How beautifully you dance,” Feyd said as they began to circle each other, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain composed as he’s reminded of a frigid sea. “Have you been shriven?”

No response. Only blue within blue.

They circle each other.

He continues his taunts, earning only a smile from Atreides as they turn. Feyd leaps at him, feinting with his right hand only to switch the knife to his left. He tries not to remember her hand in his, switching so that she’d be farther away from the cliff face and the choppy waves crashing against the frozen rocks.

“Perhaps you think this dance prolongs your life a few moments,” Feyd said, standing still and straightening.

Atreides doesn’t attack, still hesitant.

“Why prolong the inevitable? You but keep me from exercising my rights over this ball of dirt.”

In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to leave Arrakis. He wanted to return to Lankiveil where he could rule as Count, wear whale fur-lined clothes without poison needles hidden in the fabric, and look for his children among the stars.

“Why don’t you speak?”

Somehow, even with the threat of death, Atreides managed to make a fight boring.

“You smile, eh?” Feyd asked, leaping mid sentence and catching Atreides’ left arm with the downflash of his blade.

The two return to circling each other, crouching low to the floor.

“That woman you were talking to over there. The little one. Is she something special to you? A pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?”

Feyd’s chest tightens as he sees the imagined white silk dress embellished with diamonds and pearls, a cerise smile, and her hair messily done up to make room for the fur capelet tied around her shoulders.

Atreides remains silent, smiling, and Feyd leaps forward, stabbing. Feinting slowness, Atreides managed to land a cut before Feyd jumped away, switching the knife in his hands.

Again, they begin to circle each other, watching. Atreides moving his knife to his left hand to match Feyd. Blue within blue, Feyd can see her smile frozen on her face, lips turning blue and the waves rising higher.

Feyd approaches Atreides, feinting right and under, until they’re pressed against each other, knife hands straining. Atreides forces them to turn right, barely missing the poison dart flipping out from Feyd’s belt, trapping himself beneath the Harkonnen.

Even though he’s the one speaking, Feyd isn’t quite sure what he’s saying. Something about the poison dart, most likely. But staring into the Atreides’ eyes of Ibad, Feyd only thinks of the girl that would’ve been his wife. Of his first fight in the snow, the rage he felt after his brother threw his betrothed aside carelessly, over the cliffside into the frozen, rocky waves. How his father tried to stop the beast, only to be killed himself, and the two brothers were left on the cliffside alone. Breathing ragged, bleeding, and their eyes burning with unshed, frozen tears.

His hair had been long then, he’s sure Glossu ripped out part of his scalp along with a lock of his dark hair when he first tackled him. He can still see her soaked to the bone lying broken on the rocks, so drenched and frozen was she that her whale fur coat had no chance of helping, her messy hair plastered to her graying skin, lips turned blue.

“I will not say it!” Atreides gasped, stunning Feyd out of his reverie.

Atreides used the fraction of an opening to find a weakness of balance in Feyd’s leg muscles. Suddenly their positions were switched, and Feyd was partially underneath Atreides, unable to turn due to his poison needle catching on the floor, and Atreides twisted his left hand free to plunge his knife up through Feyd’s jaw and into his brain.

His body sagged to the ground, lifeless. There was no black hole sun to hide the paling of his corpse, to liken his blood to spilled ink, to steal the color of the scene.

“Feyd!” A girlish voice snapped at him.

“You’re not even paying attention,” she sighed, leaning away from him on the balcony of the lighthouse.

“Then tell me again,” Feyd said, sliding along railing to be next to her again.

Her cerise colored lips curve back into a smile as her hand dashed out to grab his jaw to force his eyes to the stars. The underside of his jaw is warmed by the soft skin of her palm, her small fingers freezing fast in the weather now that they’re not sheltered by the pocket of her coat. Still, she doesn’t move her hand, waving the other one wildly at the sky, focusing his attention on the stars as she tries to convince him that Mirzam is the perfect name for their son.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #dune x reader #dune #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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CHUBBY! READER X ALASTOR

I'm soooo sorry that I'm requesting something else this just came to me and I needed your storytelling expertise to bring it to life 😢

ALSO ALSO ALSO this one has a trigger warning so please read with the thought that YOURE PERFECT!!!😤(if you write it)

OTAY OTAY soooooooooooo reader has been apart of the hotel for awhile and has developed a crush on Alastor from afar and the small instances they do cross paths but hesitates to approach him on her own because well we're shy and HES THE RADIO DEMON anyway reader doesn't have to worry about distance between them because Alastor is AVOIDING HER ALL ON HIS OWN 😯 AND somehow reader gathers the courage to approach Alastor but sees his relationship with Rosie (they're besties, platonic soulmates definitely) and thinks 'wow, she's so beautiful and...thin' and proceeds to lock herself away from everyone (SOLITUDE) and skips meals (starving herself), Alastor is the first to notice shes missin and pulling away but doesn't know how to approach her without stumbling over his words (i like to think that hes a heartbreaker to other women like his fans but with someone that he likes with real feelings hes fumbling in the dark because he could get rejected instead, i will die on the hill) so so so he hesitates to ask reader whats wrong till he hears her throwing up or she says something awful about herself and Alastor gets angry on her behalf and reader goes silent, only for Alastor to take a breath and tell her that 'shes hurting herself, for a shallow reason such as looks', and reader goes 'i thought you liked to watch others downfalls' and then hes like 'not your downfall, never you' 😔 reader starts to cry and shouts "im not Rosie', confused Alastor finally starts putting the pieces together and grabs reader hands and sincerely says "good, i wouldn't rosie anyhow, or anyone else for that matter', reader continuing to cry tells him to stop lying that this joke isn't funny and Alastor kissies her hand as says "whos joking? I only want you, your perfect" then then then slowly Alastor starts to help reader look at themselves in a more positive light [[fit this in somewhere???????Alastor tells reader why hes so close to rosie (he's clueless about reciprocated love so he goes to Rosie because canon that she knows matters of the heart...right?)]]

A/N as always i am obsessed with your request. Also I 100% agree with the assessment of Alastor's ability to talk to people he actually likes. I am literally so obsessed with this request. Also I am assuming from your previous comments you wanted the same bunny demon character?? Please forgive me if I am wrong but I did it for her (because I love her dearly and she is based of meeeee and I'm egotisticalllllll). Kisses bestie <3 <3

Downfall (Alastor x Chubby!Bunny Demon!Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Word Count: 4,076 (I got a little carried away)

Warnings: BODY IMAGE ISSUES!!! EDS!!!! I think that's it but they're in all caps for a reason so if you have ED issues maybe don't read this one??? It is hurt//comfort tho so maybe do???? Idk. If you get triggered by ed descriptions, don't. If having a fictional character tell you you're perfect the way you are and beg you to stop destroying yourself because they can't bear to watch would help you, do.

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

It had taken months. Months of wondering what he was like, of stolen glances, of furtive daydreams. Months of building up courage, of backing down, months of hoping and dreaming. It had taken endless encouragement from Angel, countless pages in her diary. It had taken a million deep breaths, ten thousand trembles of her hands. Months, it had taken months.

It wasn't like Y/n had never spoken to the man before. That wasn't really the issue. She wasn't scared of him, just scared. The simple idea of being alone with him was an intoxicating mixture of terror and utter bliss. Y/n didn't know how to handle it, she didn't know how to handle him.

Alastor was untouchable, nearly semi-divine in her eyes. Sure, he was fucked up, but they all were. At the end of the day, his facade was as easy to see through as a cheap paper crown from a Christmas cracker. Beneath the wide smile, the sharp teeth, the stories, Alastor was just a man. He cared deeply for the world around him, for the people around him and those in his life. No matter how hard he tried to disguise it, it always shone through to Y/n.

It wasn't like she had never spoken to Alastor before, she had just never spoken to him alone before. Every interaction they had ever had was as a part of the larger group of Hotel residents and staff. On the rare occasion they ran into one another in the hallway or happened to each be in the kitchen at the same time, Y/n froze up. Words turned to stones in her stomach and all she could ever seem to manage was a gentle nod, a shaky smile. It frustrated her to no end.

Finally, she had worked up the courage to talk to him. It was all Angel's idea really, she would never have had the thought to do such a thing on her own but his pushing had been relentless and at last, Y/n had agreed.

And it had taken months, months! This was her third attempt to go up to him. They had even lowered the stakes, Angel saying all she had to do was have a single normal conversation with the man and he would let her off the hook, stop his pestering and teasing. It was just her luck, really just her god damn luck.

Sir Pentious had informed Y/n that Alastor had left the hotel to see a friend, Charlie had given her the address of the cafe he had said he would be at should they need him. Everyone was all smiles, all encouragement. Y/n reminded herself to yell at Angel later for spilling her secret although, she guessed she shouldn't have expected anything else from the hotel's biggest gossip.

Putting on her favorite outfit, her hair all done up and makeup perfect, Y/n had slicked her ears flat against her head in determination and stepped out onto the streets of Pentagram City. It didn't take long for her to find the place, a sweet little cafe on the outskirts of Cannibal Town with white wrought iron chairs and a cheerful pink and purple sign. It hadn't taken her long to spot the bright red of Alastor's suit through the window either, standing out against all the muted purples and dark blacks of the other cannibals enjoying their meals within.

"It's fine. It's totally not weird that you're going up to him in a cafe he's having lunch in with a friend, that you.... oh my god Y/n!! He's gonna think you were stalking him! You should just go back and- no! You promised. Y/n, you can do this."

She took a deep breath, centering herself in that little core, that rod of who she was, that shot down the center of her being. Raising a closed fist to her chest, she shut her eyes.

"You can do this, Bunny." she reaffirmed, "You can do this."

Opening her eyes, she crossed the street. Her hand was inches away from the door's handle, her heart racing but set on what she was about to do, when Y/n noticed exactly who Alastor's 'friend' was.

Across the table from him, sipping delicately on a cup of tea, was the most beautiful demon Y/n thought she had ever laid eyes on. She had long, dainty fingers, thin and spidery, and the most perfectly proportioned body. She was tall, long legs sheltered by her skirt and a tiny waist that threw her hips and chest into contrast. The woman's hair was neat, tucked up beneath a wide brimmed hat. Her clothes were classy, her smile was bright and charming, the black holes of her eyes were... were... were everything. She was everything, everything Y/n wasn't.

Suddenly, the weight of her own body against her bones became all too real. She felt the urge to never be touched again, the same strange sickness of her youth sinking its teeth into the softness of her stomach, her thighs, her arms, all of her. Her hand lowered from the handle, Alastor laughing at something the woman had said to him. He seemed relaxed, more at peace than Y/n had ever seen the man before. If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

It took a second for the other residents of the Hazbin Hotel to realize the change. Y/n was good at this, she'd had practice. For years, she had worked to move past it all but the threat of a relapse had always hung over her head. It was her sword of Damocles, her fated demise.

Y/n retreated in to herself, she couldn't get the image of that woman out of her head. Poised, statuesque, thin. God, Y/n had never wanted anything more than she wanted to be thin. She wanted to rip fistfuls of flesh from her body, she wanted to wither away so only something beautiful remained.

Alastor was the first to notice. He had a soft spot for the rabbit demon who always seemed to be full of that soft, discrete joy and unending kindness. She was a more toned down version of Charlie. She was genuine and completely herself, no holds bared. She had such a hope, she had such a goodness, it made him wonder why she hadn't ended up in Heaven instead.

The truth was, behind the bravado and the grin, Alastor was scared of Y/n. He was scared he would touch her and she would rot away or worse, that she would run. She was just so good, so intrinsically wondrous, and he was the opposite. She was a fresh rose and he was the person coming haplessly along with a pair of gardening shears. She was radiant, she was carved fresh from marble, he was down bad.

Women had never been a priority or a problem for Alastor. Living and dead, they flocked to him. He knew his reputation was to blame, not to mention his looks. They could be fun for a while. Alastor saw charming them as a game, a good way to pass the time. This was different, Y/n was different. Alastor didn't know what to do so, he did nothing. He avoided her like the plague and when he couldn't, he practically ignored her, barley spared her a word.

Alastor was untethered, completely in the dark and so, he did what everyone does when they feel like that: he went to talk to his best friend. When he had gotten back to the hotel after his rather illuminating little chat with Rosie, Charlie had asked him if he had seen Y/n. It felt like divine chance, a cruel joke of fate, that the demon Princess would bring up the very source of his problems so soon after having at last pushed past his pride to ask for help.

When he had revealed the truth to the gang, that no, he had not in fact seen Y/n, they seemed deflated. There had been some sighs, some shrugs, shared glances he didn't understand and then everything had gone back to normal except, it wasn't quite normal.

Where Y/n could normally be found causing trouble, making mischief with the people who had so quickly become her friends since she had started her stay at the hotel out in the open, there was now a distinct lack of her jovial presence. She began taking her plates to her room at meals, showing up to group activities less and less, claiming she was tired or had a stomach ache. Alastor noticed every time he did manage to catch a glimpse of the marvelous and strange creature who had captured his affections so, she seemed utterly exhausted. Y/n was always bundled up, even on the warmest of days.

He wanted to go talk to her, wanted to ask her if she was okay. Alastor was worried -- genuinely worried -- about her. The only thing that stopped him from knocking every time he passed her perpetually closed door, was that he knew himself too well. He knew that the minute he entered, he'd lose his courage, that the words would become mush in his mouth.

It was pure chance, right place wrong time, that he heard it. Alastor had been following his normal routine, heading up to his radio tower for a broadcast after a group activity. Today had been Operation Navigation! As Charlie had dubbed it. She and Vaggie had built an obstacle course and everyone had a partner who was blindfolded and had to be guided through. When they got to the other end, the pairs had switched. Miraculously, Y/n had shown up to this event.

Alastor had watched her carefully, noting her sluggish movements and the way it took her a second to fully register what anyone was saying in a given moment. It was out of the ordinary and his worry only grew. He knew he was going to have to do something about it eventually but just didn't know how. Maybe it would require another visit to Rosie.

As he walked past the lobby bathroom, Alastor was pulled from his thoughts. The door was slightly ajar, sending shards of light out into the darkened hallway.

"Why isn't it working!"

Came the hushed yell of defeat. It was Y/n's voice, he'd know it anywhere. Alastor stopped walking.

"Why do I have to be..."

There was a sniff, the sound of something hitting the wall. Alastor realized it had been Y/n at the sound of fabric against the wallpaper. He could see her in his minds eye as she slid down the wall, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Why can't I just be skinny."

Y/n's words were muffled, soft and shaky.

"Why can't I just be pretty. Why do I have to be... to be..." her words were briefly broken by a sob, "why can't I just be good. I can't even fucking starve myself right. I wish..."

Alastor's body reacted before his mind could catch up, he knocked gently on the door. There was a little yelp of surprise from within, a few sniffs and some rustling fabric.

"Yeah?"

Y/n's voice trembled as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

"May I come in?"

Alastor heard the sharp intake of breath. It was too late to back down now. The silence was thick between them, it felt eternal.

"Okay." Y/n agreed at last, her voice small, and Alastor stepped into the room.

It was exactly how he had imagined it. Y/n was huddled on the floor next to the door, her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms holding her shins tightly. Alastor noticed that the thick, woolen sweater she had been wearing earlier had been tossed to the side, laying haphazardly beside the sink. Y/n sniffed again, trying to smile.

"Everything okay?" she asked and Alastor fixed his eyes back on her.

Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red. Her ears lay limply around her face which was stained with tears. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, she shivered.

"No. It's not."

She seemed a bit taken aback by his answer, not having grasped the reality of the cracked door earlier.

"I don't... what's wrong?"

"You are starving yourself." Alastor replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Fuck... I... fuck!" she buried her face in her knees, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Are you trying to die!?" Alastor asked,

He didn't mean to yell, he didn't mean to be this angry. Everything he said seemed to send shockwaves of regret through his body. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Are you... I just... are you stupid?!"

Y/n looked up at him again, her eyes wet with fresh tears.

"I-"

"You what." Alastor scoffed, "You want to be pretty?"

"I..."

"You want to be pretty so you lock yourself away? You make your friends watch as you... as you what, as you get thin? As you destroy yourself?"

She was crying now, truly crying. Alastor looked away, a hand to his head. He took a deep breath, everything was going wrong. When he looked at her again, her cheeks were flushed from a mixture of shame and hurt.

"I just..." he took another deep breath, sinking to his knees before her, "Why would you hurt yourself so badly for something as.. as shallow as your looks?"

Y/n sniffled, frantically trying to wipe away her tears.

"What, I thought you liked to watch other people's downfalls." she tried to shoot back at him but her words came out stuttering and broken through the thickly falling tears.

Y/n refused to meet Alastor's gaze. Everything was going wrong. She was horribly embarrassed, she felt like a butterfly and Alastor was the terror who had opened her chrysalis too soon. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, he wasn't supposed to see her now. He was only supposed to get the after. It was all for him, after all, wasn't it?

Except, Y/n knew the truth of the matter. Alastor had been the trigger but, these behaviors were too well engrained. She might not have known it then, but she'd been looking for an excuse all along. It was all for her, every inch of agony.

His heart dropped at her words. Was that what Y/n truly thought of him? It would make sense, it was the face he presented to the world after all. He had just thought... he had hoped... Rosie had said....

Rosie. That was the answer. She had told him to be honest, to be vulnerable no matter how terrifying such a prospect could be. She had said it was the only way they ever had the slightest chance.

Alastor reached a hand out gently, turning Y/n to look at him. Her skin was soft to the touch, the beating of her blood thrumming against his fingertips. With the utmost care he could muster in his clawed and rotten hands, Alastor wiped her tears away. He couldn't meet Y/n's eyes but heard her sniffle, watched as the flow of sorrow slowed.

"Not your downfall." he said, his words like quiet feathers falling through the air, "Never your downfall."

At last he met her trembling gaze, fear coursing hotly through him, mingling with his blood. She took a few short, stuttering breaths before bursting into tears once again. Alastor flinched slightly as her head fell forward onto his shoulder.

"But I'm not that woman!"

"Woman... what woman?"

"The one you were with at the cafe!"

"The one... Rosie?"

Y/n nodded, sniffiling slightly as she tried to calm herself down.

"You saw me with Rosie? How?"

"I went... I'd been working up all this courage and... I just wanted to talk to you and Charlie and Pen said you'd be there and... and... and I'm not Rosie!"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had been right all along, Rosie was the answer. With the air of someone who hadn't had much physical affection given to them in their life, or received any for that matter, Alastor slowly wrapped his hands around Y/n's shaking back.

"Good."

"What do you mean 'good'? She's so beautiful and she made you laugh and she's just... she's so beautiful and thin!"

"She is beautiful, and a lovely woman but, I don't want Rosie. Or anyone else for that matter."

Y/n's sobs redoubled, she began to struggle against his grip.

"Let me go! Stop lying, Alastor."

Alastor released Y/n from his grasp and she pushed herself back against the wall, utterly mortified and unable to stop. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking away.

"Stop joking, it's... it's not funny."

"Who is joking? I..." Alastor took a deep breath.

Rosie had been right, it was terrifying. He hope she was right on the second part too, that it would be worth it.

"Y/n, have you seen yourself?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do you think I want to be anything else?!"

Alastor got to his feet, holding a hand out to Y/n.

"Come with me."

"No." she mumbled, scooting further away from him if it was possible.

Under another circumstance, he would have chuckled lightly, he would have found her reaction adorable. This was neither the time nor the place and so, summoning his shadows, he transported them both into the darkness of his room.

Y/n looked around, pulling herself to her feet.

"Where... where are we?"

"My room." Alastor sat down on the edge of his bed, "Come here."

Hesitantly, Y/n took a few steps forwards. Once she was in reach, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. The feeling sent sparks through his body, Alastor tried his best to ignore it. There were more important things than the pleasure of the moment. Y/n struggled against his grasp, the tips of her ears dragging slightly across his arms.

"Alastor! Let me go! I'm too heavy!"

"No, you're quite perfect actually."

"I don't want to be touched! I don't want you to... you're making me want to tear my skin off, please."

"No." his voice was firm.

"Please, just please let go of my waist at least."

To this, he relented, one of his arms falling loosely onto her lap as he held the other up, snapping his fingers. Shadow's flooded into the room, bringing with them a full length mirror. He felt Y/n tense in his grasp.

They came to a stop, setting the mirror on the ground before them. Y/n turned her head away, her eyes shut tight.

"Please stop, Alastor. This really isn't funny."

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n."

"No!"

Y/n, please."

She had never heard him say the word before. Slowly, she opened her eyes, craning her neck to look up at Alastor.

"I want you to see what I see when I look at you."

"You promise you wont be mean?" Y/n asked suspiciously after a moment.

"I pinky promise."

He had seen her do this before, with other residents of the hotel. A simple locking of pinky's was all it ever took to make a promise, to assuage her doubts, to show she cared. Y/n's eyes widened slightly. Slowly, she reached her hand out, locking her pinky with his. They shook their hands once, the way Alastor had seen her do it a thousand times before.

"Wait." Y/n said as he made to move his hand away, looking away bashfully, her cheeks a bright pink and her voice quiet, "Don't let go."

"Okay."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the mirror. It was terrible, she felt bile rise in her throat.

"Y/n, you are so... every inch of you is perfect." Alastor took a deep breath, the way his voice trembled not escaping Y/n's notice, "You have... amazing legs. I know everyone's all obsessed with Angel's but, he has nothing on you walking around on those sticks. You're... you're all soft curves and lace. If you were made of anything, you would be satin. You are a nymph rising from the lakes, a wild maenad in the woods. Your eyes shine like true stars, not what we have here. Did you know rabbits were always my favorite animal?"

Y/n giggled slightly, her tearstained cheeks flushed pink.

"Well they were. They still are. Your ears are just to die for, dearest."

He felt her ears twitch slightly against his back at the comment and Y/n watched through the mirror as his smile softened at it's harsh edges.

"Your grace is what the Greeks wrote about. You... Y/n, the first time I set eyes on you, I felt like I was drowning." Alastor looked away, unable to meet her eyes even through the glass, "Like you were a siren and I was nothing more than a hapless sailor at your mercy."

"But you never talk to me."

"You never talk to me!"

Y/n laughed again, smiling a gummy smile.

"I don't have to talk to you to see who you are, Y/n." Alastor continued, his hand that was in her lap turning so his palm rested gently on her thigh, "You light up any room you're in. You are charming and clever and constantly on the look out for places you can instill your special breed of controlled chaos."

Trembling, he shifted his hand in Y/n's so he held hers, raising it to his mouth. The heat of his breath on her skin drove Y/n wild, her breath hitched.

"I am glad you're not Rosie, I don't want Rosie. I don't want anyone else except for you."

Alastor planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand and Y/n's smile only grew, her tears long forgotten now as she watched Alastor's reflection.

"You are perfect. Please, don't change yourself, don't hurt yourself, trying to be something else. I'd miss you."

Slowly, he let their still clasped hands fall into Y/n's lap.

"Do you see now?"

Y/n turned back to the mirror, her head tilted slightly to one side as she hummed in consideration.

"No." she admitted, "But I think I might be able to start."

"One step at a time." Alastor rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in comforting circles, "I'll be with you the whole way, if you'll have me."

He held his breath, waiting for her reply. Y/n met his eyes through the mirror, her brow furrowed.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Who is Rosie?"

Alastor could have laughed, he nearly did.

"She is a very old and dear friend. I was going to her for advice, that day."

"You? Needing advice?" Y/n paused before shaking her head, "Nah, I don't see it."

She laughed lightly at her own joke and Alastor smiled softly back at her.

"It was advice about you, actually."

Y/n turned herself in his lap, looking up at him with her legs on either side of his own.

"About me?"

"Y-yes."

He cursed himself internally. Alastor hadn't meant to stutter, she just looked too lovely sitting there and looking up at him with her pretty pink lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"I..." Alastor felt the heat rising in his own cheeks and looked away, "well, I didn't know how to approach you."

"Wait, you were avoiding me this whole time?" Y/n laughed and Alastor nodded, "I thought I was avoiding you!"

"Wait, you were avoiding me?"

His gaze snapped back to hers and she laughed again.

"Yes! I was terrified to speak to you! You're so cool and hot and just... I'm not good at things like this!"

"You think I'm hot?"

"Is that all you got out of what I said?"

"Maybe."

They both laughed this time. Alastor's chest felt lighter than it hand in years.

"So," he began once they had both calmed down, "is that a yes?"

"To what?"

"To letting me... be... with you."

Y/n smiled, reaching a hand up to his cheek.

"That's a 'will you be with me?' I think actually."

----

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170

A/N Y'all, there were one or two times I almost wrote my name while doing this one. I've been writing x reader fics for eight years, this never happens to me anymore. I think I related a little too hard. I am x reader fic writing too close to the sun.

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

sayang

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, diluc, childe, xiao, ayato, kazuha, albedo, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ absolutely teeth-rotting fluff, slightly suggestive on some

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli frequently calls you “dear”, “darling”, and “my dearest”. if you’re married, he would be the type to call you and always refers to you as “(my) wife/husband/spouse”. whenever he feels a little clingy or needy misses you, sweeter nicknames like “treasure”, “jewel”, “sweetheart”, or “little one” would come out, and that’s your cue to drop everything you’re doing to coddle this man.

whatever nicknames you use to refer to him, he loves it all - just your sweet voice calling his name will make his day brighter…. just be careful when you call him with his old archon names, especially in the bedroom ;)

diluc only calls you “beloved” in private at first, but as you get comfortable with your budding relationship he starts to use them in public too.

he finds himself loving the ticklish sensation in his chest when you refer to him as “my boyfriend” or “my husband” when talking with other people. cuter nicknames like “my firefly”, “boyfie”, “hubby”, and “my love” will always bring his cheeks aflame. he abhors his “darknight hero” nickname, but he thinks it’s not so bad when you call him “my darknight”.

childe has an assortment of nicknames he calls you and the list is quite literally endless, but he especially abuses the use of “babe”, “baby”, “love”, and “my water fairy”. oh, and you know those weird nicknames lovers have for each other? that’s the two of you. there are probably a lot of inside jokes between you both for those nicknames, and he especially loves the weirded-out looks you get from strangers because they would never understand.

still, his absolute favorite has to be you whispering his actual name as you stare into each other’s eyes under the moonless nights, with the overabundance of love he doesn't think he deserves contained within your voice - “ajax”.

xiao’s names carry a multitude of memories and significance. a new beginning, a war machine, a symbol of protection, a desperate attempt to save one’s life... but when they fall from your lips it turns into something dear, something precious and pure, free of bloodshed and karma and war. like you’ve washed it anew and cradled it within your warm arms for millennia, your warmth seeping into cold, cracked jade.

he mostly calls you by your name, only because you calling him by his renewed name makes his heart do a little flip and a stutter. but on some rarer days, you might hear him utter sweeter names like “my dreamcatcher” or even “love”...

just maybe.

.... if you’re really lucky.

ayato is a fan of calling you embarrassing nicknames in public so he can see you lose your composure. “sweetheart”, “darling”, “my dear”, “my love”... he has no shame. when your engagement is finalized, there isn’t a day that passes where he doesn’t call you “my fiance” or “my betrothed” at least ten times. people referring you to “mr/mrs/mx kamisato” after your formal union never fails to bring a genuinely proud smile to his lips.

you won’t see him lose his cool no matter how many cringy nicknames you use on him. secretly, he enjoys your attempt and has a tier list of the most amusing ones you manage to think of. so far “my black camellia”, “mr. pillar of teasery”, and “sugar daddy” (he had no idea what it meant at first but he lost it when he finally found out what it meant) are the top three.

kazuha’s nicknames are as poetic and as free as he is. he doesn't settle for any specific names and every day you have a chance of getting a new one, but you’ll know he’s calling for you because he’ll be using that special tone. “dove”, “sparrow”, “maple”, “leaf”, “sunshine”, “moonshine”, “my heart”, “my soulmate”, “my home”, “my one and only” - the list is expanding as we speak.

in turn, you do the same to him, and he would be lying to say that he’s not looking forward to what you’re going to call him today. in fact, it might inspire him to write yet another haiku, which he will write and stash within his drawer, along with hundreds other papers of poems previously written from your influence.

albedo didn't exactly understand the appeal of sweet nicknames until you start calling him things like “my stardust”, “dear”, and “my prince”.

it’s like you opened a floodgate since then. you’re [name] but you're also “my starlight”, “my love”, and “dearest”. he doesn't have a lot of petnames for you but there's always a soft smile on his lips whenever he calls you one. however, this doesn’t seem to extend to when he’s talking with other people - for these occasions, he will still refer to you by your name properly. the only exception is when he’s talking with klee, he always refers to you as “big sis/bro/sibling [name]”, as if he’s prepping for the inevitable future where you three will become a family.

al haitham is another one who mainly calls you by your name. you might think that it hides your relationship from the public eye. but contrary to your thoughts, even blind people would know that you’re a couple, due to the soft undertone in his voice as his tongue rolls carefully to pronounce your name.

you can call him whatever you want and he wouldn’t mind. a few too many embarrassing nicknames in public might break his composure, though.

behind closed doors, he might slip out a “sweetheart” or even “love”. they might sound uncharacteristically gentle and soft compared to his usual selection of stoic words, but just remember to pay attention to his tone, because sometimes he will use them whenever you’ve pushed his buttons a little too far, and it might be a sign for you to back off…..

or don’t?

your choice, really.

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

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jthmstims · 2 years

Photo

🌿 🌱 🌳

🍀 🍃 🍀

🌳 🌱 🌿

stimboard series: endless list of comfort characters

5/ ∞ - leshy (inscryption)

#there are much better stimboards of him out there but this one is ok. i think #inscryption #leshy #inscryption leshy #stimboard #stim #animals #wood #candle #skulls #character board #my boards #endless list of comfort characters

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3.6k

Jungkook’s vision went white and he felt the air pulled out of his lungs as in a flash, he was again in the hospital room, Namjoon hovered worryingly over your body. He looked up as you arrived, obvious relief relaxing his features as his eyes landed on Baba Yena.

“Baba Yena,” Namjoon greeted with a bow. “I was only able to do a cursory search, but her kind isn’t listed or documented in any infernal records I was able to get my hands on.”

“Of course, because she is not from the hells, my child.” Baba Yena said, walking to your bedside, and shooing him away. “She is indeed a rare sight to behold, but you will have to ask her about her heritage, she has taken considerable lengths to conceal it.”

“So you will save her?” Namjoon asked, hopeful.

“Yes, horned one. Your mate has sacrificed sufficiently, and this child has suffered greatly as it is. It is not yet her time to die.” Baba Yena said, beginning to pull several black, oily drawing implements as well as a bottle of bright blue, glowing liquid.

Without much regard for the others standing in the room, Baba Yena began unceremoniously undressing your body, causing both the men in the room to turn their gaze elsewhere. Perhaps in a different time or context, it would be embarrassing, exciting perhaps, but they felt it perverse to see you unclothed in such a state. Fully nude, Baba Yena began using the black, oily, drawing implements to draw intricate symbols all over your body.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, back still turned.

“Her body is too weak to house her soul, so it is lost somewhere in the Astral Sea. The water from the Elu Spring in the Fey Wild will heal and strengthen her body. The markings are the spell that will call her soul back to her body.”

With that, Baba Yena sat you up, popping the cork of the blue liquid, and carefully poured it down your throat. Immediately, your almost grey skin flushes with color, and your rapid, shallow breaths begin to even out. Namjoon watched the monitor carefully, breathing a sigh of relief as your heart rate became stronger and faster too. Baba Yena then closed her eyes, extending her arms out straight, palms down. Her palms began to glow with a bright, white light, and as they glowed, so did the markings on your body. Baba Yena’s face scrunched with concentration. “Come on, child. It is not yet time to go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You came to, opening your eyes, rubbing them harshly as to clear your blurred vision. You feel yourself to be weightless, immediately, as if floating on water. All around you, horizon to horizon, were breathtakingly vibrant and clear night skies, completely lit up with stars and nebula as far as the eye could see. Below, was a massive and never-ending sea of the purest, molten silver, opaque and mirror-like, the gentle waves that broke the surface capturing the starlight with such luster you wondered for a moment if the water had been made of the cosmos, perhaps from the tears of the other stars, crying for the fallen.

It didn’t exactly take a scholar to figure out you had found yourself in the Astral Plane, the plane souls found themselves in before continuing onto an afterlife fitting of whomever they worshiped in life. Legend has it that the Astral Sea is what waters the Tree of Life, and drinking from its waters will grant you all knowledge and power akin to a God in your own right. Others said those with enough hubris or guts to try are simply driven stark raving mad, cursed to roam the endless abyss with nothing but the voices in their head to keep them company. Considering that you had yet to hear of a God exalted by this water, you were more inclined to believe the latter.

How the fuck did I get to the astral realm? You asked yourself, anxiety and panic prickling at your skin. You combed through your memories, you woke up, got dressed, had breakfast, and… you hit a wall. You try to push forward, but the more you do so, the more your brain shoots with pain. Something or someone was blocking you from remembering something important, and you judged. Whether or not that was simply a symptom of the situation you found yourself in or a direct action taken by someone, you had yet to discern.

There was at least one thing you knew about the Astral Plane, that in order to travel it, you only had to think, to will yourself in one direction or the other. You started by willing yourself into the vertical, upright position with the sea 10 meters below. What you did not know, however, was how magic functioned in this plane. The first obvious solution was to attempt to plane shift back to your reality, but when you mentally cast your consciousness out looking for laylines to dip into, you couldn’t find any. You willed yourself forward then, continuing the mental search.

Time in the Astral worked differently than in the prime material plane. There was no day or night, time simply did not pass, so it was impossible to gauge how long you truly spent looking, but you only stopped when your head throbbed from the exertion. Could it be possible that the Astral had no laylines? Or perhaps your magic had been cut off somehow, rendering you blind to any laylines that might exist? If that was the case, had you actually died? The thought raised your blood pressure.

Without the ability to dip into the magic, you were certainly not plane-shifting out of this shitty situation. You patted yourself down and only now realized that you were entirely without your personal effects, now wearing a rough spin, off-white tunic, brown pants of the same fabric, and a pair of worn leather boots. More importantly, without your stuff, you had returned to your true form. The realization was not helping the actually dead theory. You willed yourself forward, hoping to run into another soul, maybe someone who could help you figure this situation out.

You floated for what felt like years, decades. You didn’t need to eat or sleep, and with no time reference, the monotony alone would drive anyone mad, you didn’t even need to drink the seawater, you decided. Sometimes you saw people, mostly in the distance, however, and when you’d try to call their attention, they would flee like their lives depended on it. Other times the Sea itself would open up, portals of different shades of light would flash, dropping off newly departed souls, or more often, yanking an older soul into one afterlife or another. No one spoke to one another, and certainly no one spoke to you. That is, until mercifully, you hear your voice called by a friendly male voice behind you.

“Y/N?” The voice called out. The tone was friendly and definitively male, but there was a quality about the timbre that called out to something deeper and forgotten inside of you. You turned around hesitantly, seeing a tall, human man in his 20s. His hair was curly, his features dark and his skin a tanned olive. There was a familiarity to his look, and as he approached closer, it finally clicked.

“Fareed?!” You asked with a mixture of shock and surprise.

“Long time no see!” He said with a friendly wave.

When you had first escaped from the Fey Wild, Fareed was your first friend as a young child. Fareed was a bubbly but fearless kid whose hobbies appropriately included talking to strangers and jumping off the highest places he could find. He often slipped extra portions of his lunch out of the house, but you always suspected his mom knew and was giving him too much food deliberately. His fearlessness got him taken away far too young, and when our country began conscripting soldiers for some war in some faraway land, he was the first to volunteer. We received news of his passing only one month later.

To see him in his current state, alive, well, and sane choked you up and you found yourself fighting back tears.

“It’s Y/N! I must look considerably different now than when you last saw me.” You said gesturing to your true self. “Why are you still here?” You asked. Fareed had died at least 200 years ago, and you had always hoped that he was living it up in some cushy afterlife.

“I could recognize your energy from across all the planes.” He said with a light laugh. “The Astral has guardians and protectors like any other plane,” He explained. “I dedicated my afterlife to guiding and protecting the lost souls that wander here, and when it is time for them to pass on, I help them find that passage.”

“That sounds like an incredibly noble cause and absolutely something you would do,” You said with a laugh.

“Speaking of which,” He began, “I have gotten a sudden influx of souls complaining about a weird, noisy soul wandering around, harassing folks. Which, in turn, leads me to you. What are you doing here, you don’t seem dead?” He asked.

“About that,” you sighed “I woke up here and I can’t remember how or why I got here, and I would have simply teleported back but I can’t seem to use my magic.”

“That is strange, considering that the Astral Plane is incredibly magically potent, equally if not more so than the Fey Wild.” He stated. “Come here and let me touch your forehead, let me see if I can’t get this sorted for you.”

You willed yourself closer to him, and in response, he stuck his hand out, fingers tented, and placed them on your forehead. You feel nothing, but you watch Fareed’s eyes dart around rapidly, making negative vocalizations. After a moment, he drops his hand and focuses his vision back on you.

“Life certainly hasn’t been very kind to you, Y/N, and for that, I want to express my condolences.”

“Fareed the years have made you so well-spoken!” You exclaim with a laugh. “Thank you.” You said, more seriously.

“You have a powerful curse on you, but I think you already knew that. It is strange but refreshing to see your true form.” He stated. You nodded in confirmation as he continued, “You are not dead. You almost died. That is how you ended up here. Someone extremely powerful wanted you to forget what happened to you, so they blocked your memory and your magic. Fortunately, I am also someone extremely powerful and I was able to remove the block, but not the curse on you as a whole. That is a complicated and difficult endeavor not even I can do.”

With that information, you think back again, this time with crystal clear acuity. You remember the club, rescuing the woman, meeting Jungkook, his preposition. You remember being in his embrace, heat and lust and euphoria taking over every one of your senses, you remember begging him not to stop despite fading away slowly, and then darkness.

“I think I have a soulmate, Fareed.” You breathed.

“I am inclined to agree. All things do.”

“He has mates already though, 6 of them!” You exclaimed.

“Then you also have 6 additional mates,” Fareed said matter of factly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even know those people.”

Fareed cocked an eyebrow at you. “Y/N, do you know how soulmates work?”

“Love and magic and shit, no?” You asked with a shrug.

“Not quite,” Fareed explained. “Souls as most people like to refer to them are actually called Fragments. They are the broken-up pieces of Soulias. When the gods created all sentient living things, they made a center of power, into which they put all knowledge, power, emotion, experience, and condition, and they named that power center Soulia. The problem occurred when the gods tried to plant these Soulias into vessels, the power would overwhelm the vessel and tear it apart, and the ones strong enough to withstand were monstrous creatures of pain, chaos, and violence. The Gods decided to fracture the Soulias. The larger Fragments would go into the vessels they were creating, and the smaller Shards, remnants of the fracturing process, would go into all other living creatures. Fracturing also ensured that no two vessels would live an identical life and that only true harmony could be attained when you shared your piece, your life, your soul, with others around you. It was usually convenient to break the Soulia into two, so often you will see soul mates in pairs of two. But for larger Soulias, smaller Fragments are needed, so it is broken up into smaller pieces, so soulmate groups of more than two are certainly possible. The Soulia inside the vessel will spend its whole life pining after its other pieces. Many people never find their true other half, but a good deal will find love nonetheless and find satisfaction in that. Many here found their Shards in life inside beloved plants and animals.”

“I never knew all that,” You stared at him mouth agape. “So my soul, fragment, fits in with all of theirs?” You ask, gripping at your chest.

“Precisely.”

“What happens when all the parts of a Soulia are bought together?” You asked.

“Well, as I said before, the fracturing process is extremely imperfect, and in the creation of Fragments, a great number of shards are also produced, so getting every part of a Soulia back together is practically impossible. You can, however, tie the pieces together somewhat, bonding or mating as you likely know it, which affords all persons a metaphysical line to one another. Through that line, you can pick up on how your partner is feeling, you can send short messages or emotional sentiments. If they allow you in, you can enter their mind, they can share memories with you as they saw them, and they can allow you to feel exactly how they feel, understand how they actually think. It is a powerful connection, and allows for deeper intimacy and connection possible by other non-soulmate or non-bonded pairs.”

“That sounds… intrusive.” You mumble, arms crossed.

“It can be, but everything is done with the consent of both parties. You can ignore the call of your mate down the bond, even after you’ve let them in you can push them out of your mind at any time, and you can block anyone from entering. Just takes a little practice.”

You frown at that, “It sounds like you are selling it to me.”

“I guess you could say that I am. You seem upset, why? Most people are delighted to meet a soulmate.”

“I’m mad that my soulmate almost killed me, I’m mad that I have a soulmate, I’m mad that I have 7 soul mates. I’m mad that I’ve lived the last 50 years of my life in relative solitude because I was sick and tired of getting fucked over and suddenly 7 of potentially the deepest and most intimate connections a living thing can experience is dropped onto my lap so yeah, color me upset! I can’t do loss anymore, Fareed. It’s too painful.”

He looked you up and down, contemplatively. “If I may, one old friend to another?”

You nod in response.

“Look around and tell me what you see.” He said, making a wide sweeping gesture.

“I see endless and endless nothing dotted with lonely, lost souls, hoping that someday they’ll be called to something better.”

“Time may not pass in the Astral, but what I quickly learned is that this is the summation of a human life, Y/N. They live, and most days are bleak, boring, and mundane. Occasionally, another lonely soul will cross their path, and for a time, they find comfort in one another. Ultimately, they part, and at the end of it all, they pass on hoping that whatever next is someplace better, and yet for many this is what they have to look forward to.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are getting at, Fareed.”

“You have lived a long, brilliant life Y/N, many times longer than many of the souls that wander here. You have suffered more than much more than many of these souls, but you have been gifted the chance to love and be loved much more than many of these souls. So go, Y/N. Set yourself free from grief, worry, and suspicion. Do not shy away from love for fear of pain, love despite it, and love fiercely and unapologetically. When you are called to join us here again, come with joy in your heart from a life fearlessly spent, or be doomed to eternity searching the silver sea for your salvation. You are your own salvation.”

You pursed your lips tightly, looking down at the Astral Sea as you processed his words.

“It isn’t that easy,” You began, your voice wavering.

“For you, it won’t be,” He admitted. “It is true some come into this world full of light and for whom trust and love come easy. But for those who have been hurt as you have, it is going to be hard. Just because things are hard doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or that they are bad for us.”

“You know what I am, what I am made of. You see the ticking bomb I am, and yet you insist I allow people to get close to me to what... hurt as many as I can? I will never be free, Fareed. They will chase me to the ends of time and take from me what they feel they are owed. We both know that.” You finish your rant, a single tear running down your cheek. As you do so, a bright white portal opens on the top of the Astral Sea, slowly dragging you closer and closer to its event horizon.

“It seems our time together has run out,” Fareed said. “If you would allow me to leave you with a parting thought before you go. The only memories they blocked from you were of him. They wanted you to forget him so desperately they blocked your magic essentially confining you to a realm where they would never be able to touch you again. That is worth considering.”

As your feet began to hit the portal, Fareed grabbed your hand holding it close.

“Make the world tremble at you, Y/N. I don’t want to see you here for a long, long time. Good luck-” The end of the word was clipped as your vision went white, your hearing went silent, and like you were being flushed down a toilet, you felt yourself being yanked at lightning speed by your feet, and suddenly everything was again dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baba Yena pulled up her arms suddenly, and in response, your body involuntarily arched. When doing so, you let out a sudden, loud gasp, causing all present to breathe a small sigh of relief to themselves too.

“The child was very deep, so it took me a while to find her.” Baba Yena said, redressing you in a spare hospital bed and tucking you in gently. “Both of you,” She said, turning to the men who had huddled together for comfort during the spell. “Kneel.”

They looked at each other, but rather than piss off a supremely powerful being who just did you a massive favor, the pair concede, sinking to the floor on their knees. Once in position, Baba Yena approached the pair. While kneeling, Baba Yena was at eye level with the boys. She approached Jungkook first.

Thwack! She cracked him across the skull with a walking cane. “What are you doing bleeding girls dry like you're some poor changling with no control of their thirst? You are over 200 years old, act your age! You had no business testing out a connection you had no idea if you could control without supervision.” Baba Yena scolded him thoroughly.

“And you,” Thwack! This time she cracked Namjoon over the skull with the cane. “What the hell kind of doctor are you? You were in such a rush to do nothing you didn’t stop to see the blinding, gold amulet that she wears? The very same type you and several of your mates wear? If he almost killed her, you were signing the death certificate with your negligence ink. You ought to be ashamed.” She finished, brushing nothing off her petticoat, and gathering her things to leave.

“She will wake in 3 days fully rested and back to full health. There will come a time when she has questions about herself, and when she does, find me. Until then, leave me alone. You kids have caused me enough trouble as it is. Oh and, be careful with that one. She has been through enough.” And with that, she flourishes the very same cane, vanishing.

The silence that hangs in the air after Baba Yena leaves is long and heavy, but mixed with relief as the pair approach both sides of your bed, staring at your sleeping form. It was amazing how starkly opposite you looked now to even just an hour before, knocking on death’s door.

“I think you have a lot of explaining to do, Kook.”

“Later,” The younger one pleaded. “I just want to sit here for a little while.”

“Later.” Namjoon agreed, excusing himself. Not but 20 minutes later, he found himself back in the room, second chair and laptop in hand. Jungkook was too guilt-ridden to say it, but he was immensely grateful for the company. He hoped you were too.

_____________________________________________ Tags @luvlykyy ---------------------------------------------------------- Big lore dump this chapter! Some of you may be noticing some inspiration from DnD to lend me some framework for world-building! That is absolutely true, but as I also mentioned I have been using it as a framework, and as such it may or may not veer violently off the Forgotten Realms cannon, so don't get too twisted about "Hey, that's not how that thing works!" It's just a work of fiction I'm writing for funsies at the end of the day so don't take it too seriously. I hope you are all enjoying~

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x reader angst #bts x reader smut #bts x oc #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x you #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts smut #bts smau #bts #bangtan #foundfatedforever

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doobea · 9 months

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BLLK - Relationship HCs + Songs That Describes It PT. 2

contents: gn!reader, super fluffy, sfw, established relationships, kinda proofread characters mentioned: sae, shidou, barou, oliver, yukimiya, karasu a/n: hehe part 2 c: (this ended up being WAY longer than the first one) also wanted to try my chance at writing for both yukimiya and karasu bc i feel like they're underrated

sae - ride by hybs

not the biggest fan of PDA but will steal moments to hold your hand for just a second, giving it a little squeeze. for more physical reassurance, he loves taking his thumb and rubbing it across your palms and thighs.

he's hyper-aware of your surroundings whether you know it or not. if you're bending down to reach for something, one of his hands usually hovers over your head to make sure you don't hurt yourself on the way up. if he catches you shivering or sneezing for just a second then the next minute you're presented with a cup of tea and his demand for cuddles. you get the gist!

following up on the last point - whenever you get up from any surface, he always checks and dusts off anything that might cling to your bottoms or back.

sae is always out traveling and attending games, so phone calls are endless with him. even if the conversation has ended, there's something comforting about being on the line with him versus being in complete silence.

shidou - see you again by tyler, the creator

he is incredibly great with animals and that’s why you guys foster dogs together! it's no surprise for your neighbors to see the two of you walking an army of chihuahuas and german shepherds around the block every morning. it's also no surprise to everyone when he ends up adopting four of them; he claims no one can take care of them better than he can.

when it comes to washing dishes with shidou, he likes to make shapes out of the bubbles and blow them your way. this always ends up in a bubble-blowing battle that leaves the dishes to be washed the day after.

not really an extreme prankster, but what harm would an innocent sticky note on your back do? he likes to write jokes on them before sending you off to get errands.

gets abnormally invested in the drama in your social life. you tell him that one of your friends had just gone through a breakup? he's getting a bag of popcorn and already listing off questions pertaining to who's at fault.

barou - come inside of my heart by iv of spades

if you ever need to move he'll be there to help in a heartbeat. not only does he have the muscles to help you secure all the furniture, but he has the brains to let you know how to stack the items and what equipment you need to keep them pristine and in one piece.

even if he claims it’s a bother, it’s not! he’s the type to fix your messy cable management and will replace anything that looks like it needs “fixing” in your house. examples include buying you new sponges for the kitchen, restocking your fridge if you’re running low on essentials, and folding your laundry if you’re the type to leave it in the dryer after it’s done.

he hates having his photo taken but knows that you absolutely adore showing him off to your friends. when you first got yourself a camera, all the film was practically barou, barou and you, and shirtless barou. it took a while for him to warm up to the idea but when you came home with developed photos in hand, he can't help but litter the fridge with his favorite moments with you.

definitely listens to cheesy boy bands when he's tidying up the place. he gets easily embarrassed about it so he usually waits to clean up the area when you're out before turning the music up to max volume. there was a rare moment when you returned early and a flustered barou claimed that he didn't know how 'boyfriend' by big time rush came up in his playlist.

oliver - somebody by keshi

surprisingly one of the best people to go to IKEA with - and no it's not because of the fact that he's part Swedish. he'll be the type to get into character whenever you guys go into a showroom, acting as if it's an apartment that you guys share. he’s cute but be careful, he’s the type to sneak items into the cart when you’re not looking!

gets excited whenever pull him into the living room knowing that you'll be announcing a fashion show from your recent mall run. he'll play along and hype you up, taking photos and telling you to give him 360 spins.

a chronic blanket hogger! he complains about needing a bigger bed because his feet keep dangling off the edges and that he needs the blanket the most. if you offer to sleep on the couch so that he can get more space, oliver will just pout and join you wherever you end up sleeping.

when you guys were touring for apartments, it was your job to keep the leasing agent occupied with questions while he was in the other rooms subtly scratching the walls with his nails to see if the paint would hold up.

yukimiya - home by luke chiang

never forgets to bring the mail in. a majority of the time, yukimiya will throw away the useless magazines and ads, but on slow days he likes to sit down and sort through coupons and tries his attempt with the weekly crossword puzzles with you.

there's always a different scented candle in every room you guys share. when they're running low, the two of you typically go to the store and spend at least an hour trying out all the different smells that they have to offer. a new seasonal and two of the regular scents are the final items he settles for.

he'll drive to your workplace to bring you lunch if you've forgotten it for the day. most of the meals he ends up buying for you are typically way healthier and out of your budget than what you would usually make for yourself.

keeps your side of the bed warm for you after you come back from a long day! yukimiya believes it's bad luck to get in a cold bed so he's doing his job as a good boyfriend.

karasu - summer by brockhampton

expect a lot of late-night food runs with karasu and they're all unplanned. you guys could literally be driving back from a date night in the city and he’ll just be like “I want McDonald’s” and just pull in a drive-through. sometimes he’ll do it if he wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep.

is a very good listener but not a good comforter (he's trying to do better in the long run). due to his usual snarky personality, he's worried that he might say the wrong things and usually says little to nothing. when you're crying, the best he offers is back rubs and a long cuddle session afterward.

working out together with karasu is like having your dad help you with math homework. he's critical of how your form should look, always saying that you might hurt yourself in the long run if you're not placing your feet or shoulders at the correct angle.

it's canon that he's afraid of the ocean and can't swim that's why whenever you guys are at a pool, he requires you to hold onto his hand - claiming that he doesn't want you to float away.

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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Bloodied Stars - Part 5 - Crimson Warning

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

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Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 5.8K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) (Series contains - Angst, “enemies” to lovers, pregnancy, disagreements, slow character growth, smut, typical asshole ascended astarion behavior, cliffhangers, death, murder - This takes place after the events in BG3, the ‘reader’ (you) is not Tav. Just a Baldur’s Gate resident)

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Can you truly look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Chapter List

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Returning to your own chamber, you sank onto the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of him.

Were you falling in love with him?

The question echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of doubt and fear that surrounded your heart.

You traced patterns on the coverlet with trembling fingers, lost in a maze of uncertainty and hopes. Astarion was a puzzle you couldn’t solve, a riddle wrapped in enigma and shrouded in darkness. And yet, there was a hint of something in his eyes, a longing that drew you into his embrace time and time again.

The night stretched on before you like an endless tapestry, woven with threads of longing and desire. Torn between wanting him close and fearing that the whole affectionate thing was an act, you wrestled with your own emotions in the quiet solitude of your room.

You were drawn back to the washroom, craving the view of the outside world. The moon cast a silvery glow through the glass, painting everything in shades of grey and blue. As you sat, staring at the stars, you wondered if there was even a place for anything more than duty and necessity in Astarion’s life.

If there was room for you.

Sleep finally claimed you, pulling you into a dark embrace on the cold tile floor. Even while deep in slumber, you couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t mean anything to the pale elf at all.

When you awoke to the sunlight filtering in, washing over you like a warm blanket, you immediately regretted falling asleep on the hard ground. Your mood was sour as you trudged back into the bedroom, your eyes catching on a plain paper resting on the small bedside table.

You picked it up curiously, flipping it over to see the writing. Tied to the edge was a small hairpin. The silver piece was adorned with delicate ivory carvings of intertwining vines, their leaves and flowers forming intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer as they caught the light.

It was absolutely magnificent.

As you examined the hairpin more closely, you found that the tip had been sharpened to a fine point, one that would easily draw blood with the slightest wrong movement. You felt your chest flutter, your eyes flitting back at the note attached to the gift.

All of your doubts melted away as you read the crimson cursive writing, the words giving away more than your pale elf could ever say.

“For my fangless vampire so that she’ll never grow hungry.

Yours always,

Astarion.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The next few days seemed to pass in a blur. Astarion would visit in the evenings, accompanying your dinner with a bit of his blood. You tried not to think too much about the pale elf’s gift, though you were slightly mesmerized by the hairpin’s beauty and sentiment. It became your constant companion, tucked into your hair during the day.

The time not with Astarion was spent in only two ways; exploring the building to find Evelyn or sitting in the washroom to stare outside of the window. You didn’t feel as trapped as you did before, but every once in a while, you craved the feeling of the sunlight on your skin.

Oh how you wished there was something interesting for you to sew.

Before you knew it, the days had turned into weeks and you had grown into a comfortable pattern. Astarion had slowly but surely began spending more and more time with you when night fell. Sometimes, it was small talk about the day, but more often, it ended with Astarion’s hands ever so gently holding you. Before you could interrogate him about his feelings, he’d find a way to slip out, leaving you to stew on your own emotions. It seemed that this evening would be no different.

“Curse these cravings,” you grumbled, curling up into your four poster bed.

Astarion usually came to see you by this time of the day, but today he was annoyingly late. You could be patient, but the little hellion you were carrying apparently could not.

As if called by your thoughts, the door creaked open quietly.

“Ready to see me?” Astarion called through the open doorway.

It was hard not to notice how much more polite he’d grown the longer you stayed here. His demeanor had done nothing to help your constantly conflicted feelings, but you supposed it was better than him being a complete and total arse.

“More than ready,” you replied with a small smile, unable to hide your relief at his presence.

He approached you, moving with a quiet grace as he perched himself on the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed across yours lightly, sending a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth.

“I do have to apologize for my lateness, I suppose,” Astarion sighed. “Had a couple urgent matters.”

“Urgent matters?” you prodded nervously.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Evelyn said that any amount of stress can affect the pregnancy,” he assured, still not meeting your eyes.

“Are you sure?” you continued, leaning forward to try to catch his wandering gaze. “Is it something that affects me and the baby?”

“Absolutely not.” Astarion answered firmly, finally looking at you. There was a strange intensity in his gaze, a feeling of something you couldn’t quite place. You held his gaze for a moment, trying to decipher the emotions swirling in those mesmerizing crimson eyes.

“Then I won’t worry about it,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. But as Astarion’s hand covered yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

He leaned towards you, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting,” he whispered, his breath cool against your skin.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, letting yourself be pulled into his aura yet again.

As he pulled away slightly, you were left breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest. Astarion’s eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your insides flutter. You avoided his gaze, trying to push the fog out of your mind.

You couldn’t do this again.

Astarion had fallen into a habit of these kinds of things. Tender kisses to your hands before he left, loving gazes when you spoke about your day, heated lips meeting yours whenever he thought the time right. It always left your head spinning afterwards, but when it finally cleared, you couldn’t help but question his sincerity.

“I can’t resist you any longer,” he murmured. “I need you.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, leaning out of his arms. “As much as I would like to play house, I’m afraid our little Dhampire will eat me from the inside out if I don’t give into the cravings.”

Astarion’s facade of confidence wavered slightly as you pulled away. He quickly masked it with a playful smile, brushing off any concerns. With a deft motion, he reached up and plucked the hairpin from your hair, twirling it between his fingers before pricking his palm without hesitation.

“In that case, I shan’t make you wait any longer,” he quipped.

The crimson bead of blood welled up, shimmering in the dim firelight of the room. Astarion’s gaze never left yours as he offered his hand to you, something he had done every night. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, however, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the inner turmoil he so expertly concealed.

“I never get used to this,” you complained, leaning forward to drink from the pinprick.

The metallic tang of blood filled your senses, intermingling with the heady aroma of Astarion’s cologne. As you drew back, savoring the warmth that spread through you, you caught his gaze firmly fixed on your parted lips.

“You do have a way of making even the mundane seem enchanting,” he mused.

“A very pretty lie,” you shot back, throwing him a small smile.

“Why do you always assume my affection is a lie?” he asked, feigning offense.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Call it a gut feeling. Or perhaps it’s just because I know that you can’t love someone you don’t know anything about,” you shrugged.

“Oh, darling,” he purred. “Who said anything about love? I’m purely speaking of affection and desire.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“So if I were to ask you, say,” Astarion pondered for a moment. “Your favorite fruit. Then would you believe what I say?”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. “Trust is formed on more than favorite foods. Which would be peaches, by the way.”

“For gods’ sake,” he sighed dramatically, leaning back on the plush bed. “What will it take to make you trust me.”

You giggled, leaning over him, propping yourself up on your palms. You gazed at him for a moment, taking in every crease and line on his face.

“You can start by telling the truth,” you whispered, meeting his gaze.

“Anything,” he murmured back softly.

You thought for a moment, wondering what exactly you should ask him. You finally settled on asking something mundane, something that could lighten the air around the two of you. But when you opened your mouth, completely different words spilled out.

“Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly and your breath stilled.

Not at all what you had planned.

“And if I do love you?” he responded quietly. “What would that even mean?”

The vulnerable look in his eye made your heart clench. It was as if he wasn’t really asking you the question, he was trying to find it in himself.

You leaned in closer, your lips hovering just a breath away from his.

“We’ll figure that part out later.”

With a surge of courage, or perhaps even need for avoidance, you closed the distance between your lips and his. Your kiss was gentle at first, hesitant. You could feel the pressure from his touch as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The sensation sent a shiver through you, causing as soft sigh to escape your lips as you leaned further into him.

Astarion’s response was immediate and fervent, his lips molding against yours with a hunger that matched the intensity of your own. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer to him, his touch igniting the fire that had been smoldering for so long. There was a desperation in his embrace, a deep need to hold you close.

When you finally broke apart for air, breathless and dizzy from the kiss, Astarion sat up with you still straddling his lap. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching you.

“I think-“ he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

“For gods sake, stop talking for once,” you chided, leaning in for another kiss.

It was much easier to fall into desire than it was to have an open conversation about your feelings. What if he were to say the things you never wanted to hear? What if he confirmed what you knew deep down?

You were just a means to an end.

You ground your hips down, almost in an effort to short circuit your swirling insecurities. Astarion groaned into the kiss, his hands grasping at your hips tighter. His touch was both possessive and desperate, almost as if he feared you would slip through his embrace at any moment.

As your hands tangled in his hair, his lips left a blazing trail down your neck, igniting a fire just below your stomach. A low growl rumbled in his chest, sending vibrations through you that only stoked the flames higher. His teeth grazed your jaw line, shivers breaking out across your skin. You sighed airily, shifting your hips across Astarion’s growing erection.

His hands moved with a newfound urgency, hungrily undressing you as he continued to kiss down your chest. The feeling of his lips, teeth, and tongue brushing against your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and weak n his grasp. You moaned softly, arching your back to bring yourself closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Astarion’s fingers trailed across the delicate skin of your stomach, tracing the curve of your hips before sliding beneath the hem of your dress. The fabric caught on his skin, but the hunger in his eyes had never left as he tugged the dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. He ran his hands down your arms, tracing the contours of your shoulders and the delicate lines of your collarbone.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your shoulder as his hands continued to explore you. His breath was cool against your skin and you shivered beneath his touch. He reached around you, undoing the clasp of your corset with practiced ease, revealing the delicate lace of your chemise underneath.

The fabric hung limply, only vaguely hiding the swell of your breast. He traced the edge of the lace with his fingers before running them down your chest, teasingly slow with his motions.

Astarion’s hand found the ties of your chemise, and with a swift tug, it fell away from your body, leaving you sitting atop him in nothing but the dim light of the room. He inhaled sharply, taking in the sight of your naked body, the ever so slight swell of your stomach. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in everything about you.

Oh how you hated when he looked at you this way, as if you were really being loved.

His hands moved once more, this time gently cupping your breast, his thumbs brushing across your nipples as he dragged them down your chest. A low grumble of approval rumbled in his chest as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your skin. His teeth grazed across your pebbled nipples in a slow, deliberate motion, making your legs weak with the idea of him biting the sensitive skin. You cried out softly, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.

The light from the flickering fireplace cast an intricate dance of shadows across his face as he leaned further down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they roamed. His tongue flicked out to taste the salty beads of sweat on your skin, your chest shivering under his exploration.

With one hand, he massaged your breast gently, a feather-light touch that had you aching for more friction. The other hand traced delicate circles down your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers dipped into the curve of your hips, dragging lightly against the silky skin before continuing on to the base of your spine. Each touch was an offering, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Your breath hitched as his lips closed over your erect nipple, sucking it gently. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate blend of pain and pleasure that had you arching beneath him. The room seemed to grow dimmer, as if all the light was being drawn towards the two of you, your bodies moving in the shadows like a dark and sinful dance.

He pulled away slowly, leaving your nipple moist and swollen. Your eyes locked with his, searching for the depths of his soul in the darkness. There was something wild and untamed in his gaze, a hunger that mirrored your own.

With a low growl, Astarion’s arms tightened around you, pulling you down further onto him. You could feel him through his tunic, the rigid length of him against your stomach as he flipped you onto your back, leaving you sprawled across the bed. Now it was your turn to drink him in, to feast your eyes on the strong lines of his body, the chiseled features of his face. He smiled wickedly, glowing with a newfound radiance.

“Mine,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire.

As you gazed into his eyes, you could see a storm brewing, a deep-seated passion that threatened to consume both of you whole. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a flush rose on your skin.

Slowly, Astarion began to move. Slowly, oh so slowly, Astarion raised himself up, his eyes never leaving yours. He undid the laces of his tunic, each tiny movement a deliberate, seductive dance. His muscles glistened with sweat, and you could see the sinewy strength of them rippling beneath his skin.

As he pulled the tunic off over his head, you were treated to quite the show. His broad shoulders, his lean chest tapered into a defined waist, his skin creamy white. Every curve and contour was perfect.

Then he was kneeling again, looking down at you with a look of hunger in his eyes. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest and you could feel the dew beginning to gather between your legs. Your breathing became shallow and rapid, and you could barely control yourself.

His hands began to explore your body yet again, tracing the lines of your curves, the softness of your skin. He kissed your stomach, his movements increasing in intensity until his lips met your navel. With a whimper, you arched your back, inviting him to continue.

His tongue danced over your skin, tracing the curves of your hips, the indentations of your waist. You felt as if you were melting into the bed and the sensation of his touch was enough to make you cry out in pleasure.

He looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re so easy to come undone, my pet,” he teased.

You blushed, your eyes locked on his, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed.

“And you, Astarion, are such a tease,” you retorted, trying to regain some of your dignity.

He chuckled, landing a chaste kiss on your hip. “But you’re the one asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you muttered, your voice catching in your throat, “but you owe me for the hell you put me through.”

His eyes darkened, the hunger in them burning even hotter. “Is that so?” he asked, his tone challenging.

You nodded, your resolve strengthening. “Yes,” you whispered, locking your gaze with his. “You do.”

“You want me to make up for all of that…” he paused, nipping at your hip affectionately. “hell?”

“You’ll never be able to make up for all of the torment you’ve put me through,” you scoffed, trying to keep up the pretense. “But I’ll give you one chance anyways.”

“One chance it is, pet.” Astarion’s eyes sparkled at the challenge, his lips brushing dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “Only if I can take my time, that is.”

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to slowly spread you open with his fingers. The coolness of the air on your heated flesh contrasted with the coolness of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his fingers delved deeper, gently probing the tight folds of your core. The scent of your arousal filled the air, a heady mixture of musk and sweetness that seemed to intoxicate him by the way he inhaled deeply.

His thumbs brushed against your clit, the light touch sending waves of pleasure radiating outward, causing you to shift your hips in response. Astarion watched, a predatory smile spreading across his face as he took in your reactions.

“Please,” you whined, unabashedly grinding your hips against his fingers.

With a smirk, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of your core. You moaned softly, your hips bucking against his tongue as he began to work his magic.

His fingers continued to tease and torment, stroking and probing, while his tongue delved deeper, caressing your most sensitive spots. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and desperation that left you utterly breathless.

“Please,” you begged, your voice strained. “Please, don’t stop.”

Astarion chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your sensitive cunt.

“I’m not going to stop, pet. I’m just getting started.”

True to his words, he continued his wicked dance, driving you higher and higher towards the edge. You clawed at the cover beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric.

Your entire body felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. You arched against him again, desperate and needy. He met your gaze, his lips still latched to your core, his eyes burning with desire.

He shifted his fingers, thrusting into you suddenly. With a final curl of his middle finger, he hit your sweet spot, causing a burst of pleasure to shoot through you like lightning. Your entire body convulsed, your breath caught in your throat. You cried out in ecstasy, the sound mingling with Astarion’s low growl as he continued to pleasure you.

His tongue didn’t stop, and neither did his fingers. The sensation was completely overwhelming, and you felt as if you were floating, soaring through the heavens. your body shook uncontrollably, every muscle tense and strained. It felt like you were on the brink of something incredible.

And then the wall finally broke. A tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming your senses, your mind, your entire being. You screamed his name, your body trembling violently, the intensity of the orgasm leaving you breathless and weak.

Astarion continued his movements, carrying you through your high. You lay there, panting, the fragility of your body and mind all too exposed.

Finally, Astarion pulled away, his pupils blown wide. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Are you satisfied, my pet?” he asked, his voice all too confident in an answer you hadn’t even given yet.

“I suppose so,” you quipped, your voice still hoarse from your intense release.

Astarion only chuckled, crawling up to lay beside you, his arms pulling you into a soft embrace. You let your eyes flutter shut, comfortably resting in the pale elf’s arms. The more your breathing evened out, your heartbeat becoming softer, you couldn’t help but flit back to the conversation you’d been having before Astarion’s tongue interrupted.

“What would it mean?” you wondered aloud.

Astarion shifted, turning his gaze to you. His hand came up to brush the hair from your face softly, his touch gentle.

“What would ‘what’ mean, pet?” he prodded.

You bit your tongue for a moment before pressing a small kiss to his jaw. He groaned slightly, his hips shifting forward.

Bold of him to act as if you were the desperate one with the way he ground his length against your hips.

You smiled as you continued your trail of kissing, pulling back only when you had landed a kiss in the crook of his neck.

“What would it mean,” you started again, avoiding his gaze. “If you did love me?”

The room was silent for a moment, filled with recognizable tension that hung thick in the air. Astarion looked into your eyes, his own holding a mess of emotions. His struggle was evident as his face flickered between confusion, concern, and longing.

“What would it mean?” he repeated, his voice soft. You felt a pang of sadness, as if the words you spoke had somehow managed to break the affection that had been so delicately woven between you.

You couldn’t see that expression any more, see the conflicted look in his eyes any longer, so you turned away. Instead, you stared at the intricately carved wooden panels of the bed’s headboard.

“Forget I asked,” you stammered. “My logic hasn’t quite come back yet,” you tried to laugh, the sound empty and foreign.

The soft sound of his ragged breath escaped his lips, and you could feel him shift uncomfortably beside you. You knew then he was grappling with his own feelings, ones you weren’t sure would end in your favor.

“What are you doing?” you murmured, feeling him shift further.

Ignoring your question, he gently disentangled himself from your grasp. His eyes avoided yours as he stood up and began to put his clothes back on. The air was heavy with his silence, your muscles growing tense.

You wanted to reach out and grasp his hand, to pull him back into your embrace and offer whatever reassurance you could, but the distance between you felt insurmountable. The weight of his silence settled in your chest, leaving you with a hollow feeling of unease.

He stood there, fully dressed now, his face a mask of conflict and determination. You watched, feeling as if you were peering in on someone else’s thoughts, a world you didn’t belong in.

Slowly, he met your gaze once more, his eyes glazing over with resolve. “It would mean nothing,” he answered, his voice sure.

You looked on numbly as he turned and left the room, your heart dropping to your feet. As the door clicked shut behind him, you felt a profound sense of sadness and confusion.

You thought you had been making progress with him. Slowly growing closer in the little moments you had shared.

So much for that.

“Where did we go wrong?” you muttered to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could dissolve into a puddle of self pity, you heard a gentle knock on your door. You wiped away an errant tear, took a deep, shuddering breath.

“One moment,” you called out.

You expected it to be Evelyn, she often visited to check up with you. Part of you wondered whether she was just worried that you spent too much time alone. Even so, you’d never turn away the company.

You shuffled into a nightgown, throwing the day’s clothes in a pile on the opposite side of the room. You walked to the door, opening it gently. It wasn’t Evelyn behind the door, however. It was the spawn who had carried you into this room when you had first been locked away.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time,” he offered awkwardly.

“You’re the one who put me in here the first time,” you responded dryly.

“Ah yes,” he chuckled nervously. “Faelar is my name. And I am sorry about that mess. I couldn’t have said ‘no’, even if I had wanted to.”

You sized up the spawn, taking in his appearance. He resembled Astarion in the way all of the spawn did, with his pale skin and white hair. But Faelar seemed softer, less threatening in every way. He was probably a foot taller than your pale elf and yet still came across as unassuming.

“And did you want to?” you questioned. “Want to say ‘no’, that is?”

Faelar flinched slightly, then paused as if to find his words. You studied him more in the silence, wondering to yourself what he had looked like before he had turned into a spawn. His eyes were a bit lighter, even edging on pink instead of crimson. His hair was long and sleek, braided back out of his face.

“I did want to say no,” he responded quietly. “I’ve been wanting to come and apologize, but after seeing the Master storm out the way he did…” Faelar grimaced slightly. “I thought I’d check on you.”

“So he really is that upset,” you whispered, turning away from the spawn. You didn’t want him to see how much Astarion’s actions affected you. No matter how trivial it was.

You sat back on the bed, allowing the exhaustion to slouch your shoulders.

Faelar let out a small awkward sigh, seeming to not know how to respond. You inwardly cringed at how pathetic you must seem to him in this moment.

“Perhaps I can lift your mood,” he suggested, moving closer to you.

“What could you possibly do?” you asked, suspicion tinging your tone.

“I could show you the stars. The roof has quite the view,” he offered.

“I don’t think Astarion would allow that.”

“Then I suppose it will have to be our secret,” Faelar challenged.

Your eyes shot up to his, catching a sly smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but giggle, thankful for the sliver of levity in this whole mess. You thought for a moment, weighing the outcome of sneaking away, even if for a bit.

“Lead the way,” you said finally, blowing out a shaky breath. You stood up slowly, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you. Faelar offered you his arm and you took it gratefully.

As you walked, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. The darkness of the night enveloped you both, casting shadowy shapes around you. Faelar led you to the highest point of the tower, where the opening ceiling broke into a sweeping view of the sky.

As you gazed up into the inky blackness, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder. You never took the time to appreciate the beauty of the world. Between work and being thrown into Astarion’s complicated mess of a world, there was never time.

But here, the stars shone brightly, twinkling like tiny pieces of a vast endless puzzle. Faelar pointed out the constellations, explaining the different stories behind each one. You listened intently, happy to talk about the simpler things in life.

You marveled at the intricate patterns of the stars, each one a story waiting to be told. Your eyes widened with Faelar’s words, taking in the many tales of star-crossed lovers and mythical creatures.

You devolved into a fit of laughter at the one about the clumsy bear who knocked over a pot of stew, and the wise old owl who showed him the way to cook a perfect meal. How that related to a grouping of stars, you couldn’t tell. Faelar’s cheeks flushed slightly at your amusement, he couldn’t seem to help smiling back at you.

“So tell me more about Astarion,” you said, finally bringing up the topic that had been lurking in the background. “You know him well, don’t you?”

Faelar nodded solemnly, giving you a sad smile. “Indeed, I do. He can be quite the mystery sometimes, but life has not been kind to him.”

Faelar hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words very carefully. He lowered his gaze, his eyes lost in the hazy darkness of the night sky. “You know, he was abandoned by someone he deeply loved,” he murmured.

You shifted slightly, trying to take in his words.

“He hasn’t spoken about it since it happened,” Faelar continued, his voice tinged with sympathy, “But it’s clear by the way he is with you that he isn’t past it.”

“Oh,” you responded, not able to find any other words.

You stayed quiet for the moment, digesting the information as you stared up at the stars. You wondered what Astarion had been through, what kind of person had left him behind. Did he see their face every time he looked at you?

“That must have been difficult,” you wondered aloud.

“Yes,” Faelar sighed. “But he isn’t the first to lose something important to him. Nor is he the last.”

You looked towards Faelar, sensing something deeper in his words. His expression was a stone mask, his gaze focused on something far away.

“Like you?” you asked softly.

Faelar hesitated for a moment, then the corner of his mouth turned upward in a small, sad smile. “Yes,” he said finally. “Like me.”

Sensing his discomfort, you tried to change the subject. “Is that why he’s always so guarded? I mean he says one thing but then his actions say another,” you questioned.

“Perhaps,” Faelar replied, his voice soft and distant. “But that’s not to say he’s incapable of love. He simply needs time to heal, to find the strength to be vulnerable again.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you nodded. “Even if it does complicate things even further.”

Faelar nodded, giving another sigh. As you continued to sit in silence, the vast expanse of the night sky stretched out above you, you felt a little less alone.

You glanced over at Faelar once more, and though he still looked as if he were a million miles away, you could see the emotion in his eyes. You reached out and took his hand, trying your best to give him a comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice growing thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing me up here.”

Faelar gave you a grateful grin, squeezing your hand gently. “You aren’t alone here you know. We may be only spawn, but any of us are here if you need company. Well, maybe any of us but Amastacia,” he chuckled.

You giggled in agreement, feeling a small warmth bloom in your chest.

The wind began to pick up, its whisper rustling wisps of your hair around you. You felt your eyes begin to grow tired, your body falling into sleepiness now that you weren’t as stressed as before.

Faelar’s gaze met yours with a knowing look and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“We should head back,” he suggested, standing up and brushing himself off.

You stood up as well, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. You gave one last look towards the stars, thankful for this moment of peace.

You followed Faelar back down the steps, making your way back to your room. Neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t oppressive. It didn’t take long before you were back before your door, the spawn stopping before he opened it.

“You know,” he started, slightly nervous. “If you’re still feeling a bit isolated, you’re welcome to have dinner with the other spawns and I. We meet every night.”

“Oh I don’t want to intrude,” you smiled shyly. You weren’t quite ready to admit how desperate you were for more company.

“It wouldn’t be an intrusion at all. I’ll come get you tomorrow?” Faelar smiled.

“Tomorrow then,” you relented, smiling gratefully.

With that, he opened the door and paused for a moment. Just as quick, he seemed to shake off the feeling, opening the door wider. You walked in the room, turning and giving him one last smile. He nodded curtly before turning and leaving your room. You watched him go for a moment, then quietly closed the door.

As you made your way to the bed, sleep tugging you ever closer, your eyes snagged on an envelope atop your bedside table.

You rolled your eyes. Did Astarion really think that every situation could be fixed with a sappy note and a hairpin?

But as you flipped open the envelope and pulled out the paper within, your blood ran cold.

In bright red letters, scrawled angrily and in a haste was an obvious threat.

‘Even carrying his heir won’t protect you from your inevitable death.’

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

To be continued - Saturday, April 6th - 8 p.m. CST

Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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송은석 : Tell the cameraman there’s no good side, they’re both attractive.

❝ your ace, your king, your double diamond. your jack of all trades, your 100 and one shades.

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: actor! song eunseok × actress f!reader.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: romance. on set / gambling undertones as far as the film storyline goes. w.c 5k

two actors fatally ‘meet’ at a ‘casino.’ with the narrative centering round the ‘value of the moment,’ as the story advances, the ‘love on set’ becomes more evident thru the cameras. as the director realizes this early on, all of his retakes serve as both the actors’ main obstacle and unifying force in achieving their individual & character’s goals.

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: slight mutual pinning (?) both are kinda confused; mixed signals, ofc flirting. makeout :) i had MMA Eunseok on mind while writing this... the gloves and all.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: why i feel like everyones on sum Eunseok current rn? as if we re collectively riding that wave? am i not right? am i not!? it’s like homeboy was only getting comfortable up until now. or elsee y are his contents as of lately sooo attacking? idk why, but i feel like this type of situation goes so well w him?

this goes back and forth between the film’s plot and the real* on set setting. hope it’s not confusing

It feels like you’re wearing your seductive velvet dress just to let him down one more time. The never-ending takes of filming this movie and wearing the same clothes don’t help Eunseok at all; in fact, your attire has made him even more confused and hell crazed.

Drama, slash thriller, slash…

“Romance is for the weak,”

reads one of the script’s lines. Of course, there is nothing romantic about the way he has to portray the charismatic rival who must rob the same kingpin as you. You both need to be like loaded guns to figure out who will outsmart who. Without a doubt, this isn’t a game for the weak of heart.

Side from the fact that long shoots and endless days blur together, his constant presence both on and off set also distorts your perception and wounds your judgment. Though you know for a fact that it’s a waste of your time to catch vibes.

As you’re getting started & Eunseok is an A-list hitter, it is also completely out of the question. Moreover, even now, you find it surprising how you were cast for this role, but that was exactly what spurred you on to continue & demonstrate your abilities.

Though the weeks of filming went smoothly, as you 2 approach ‘a’ scene, tension is mounting.

But, now that you’re here, you’re reshooting and pacing around the same set of scenes, over and over. There is a clear build-up in tension and skin ship as the film goes. The way his hands would sometimes tighten around your waist, it seems like an old game. Practically, it’s the same same daily.

It’s as if you have been thrown into a loop for a week. Monday through Saturday, which seems excessively intense because you have to look into his big eyes and act unaffected, just like your character. To pretend that you’re razor-sharp when you two touch and to act as though nothing is happening.

The latest take you took was three hours ago, before your lunch. Venue: the casino.

The casino set is unique in that it has distinct widths and depths, & it’s a character unto itself.

You’re shooting at a real place—a candid gambling place with walls painted in every hue imaginable, which is the main ‘bait’ factor. Nevertheless, the place’s real undercurrent is that it has the power to literally tear apart a person. Here, time and space are merely ideas, and much like love, everyone in the plot keeps playing in the hopes of hitting a jackpot.

On the periphery are the people who have come here to escape reality, vibrant lights, music, drinks, and all things magnetic.

However, the more people indulge in these casino games, the more they immerse themselves in sin. The games have a concentric hierarchy, and the degree of wickedness increases gradually until it reaches the heart of the casino, where the money is kept in bondage and bound with a bloody ribbon.

In essence, the characters you and Eunseok play dance and mingle in the depths of hell.

As you both keep colliding in the games you play, what begins as an individual hunt becomes more focused. It’s the way that your objective in this round is to win jointly by lying. Still, at some point in the round, Eunseok’s character betrays you, but that is currently irrelevant, as you’re currently sitting on his lap.

And doing so, you scan the players in front of you. There are eight of them in total, some of whom have girls sitting on their laps as well. Some kiss, some clink their glasses, and some flirt with the person across. A ton of chips, cards, and cash are spread out across the poker table.

Your character remains silent, just like Eunseok’s does. Distraction is something that neither of you wants. However, the fact that you’re sitting on his lap makes this already a deranged situation.

Players sling remarks about your character around the table in an attempt to break Eunseok’s character’s nerve.

“When will it be our turn to have our round with her, at last, exactly when?” Gesturing you both, one of the group members says, perched on the edge of the poker table. “Hm? We may need to take some action because you don’t really share your food here. We may need to bring bad luck to attract her.” The actor laughs narratively, but there is seriousness in the corners of his bright eyes that makes it seem like he is really after you, and there is nothing Eunseok can do about that. It is an amazing acting delivery from him.

And while his remarks are only meant to irritate Eunseok’s character, why does it feel like they also irritate the real Eunseok? Because his leg begins to twitch uncontrollably under you.

In order to stop letting his emotions show and to keep his mind to the job in hand, he needs to snap back into character quickly. He remains to cage you in a respectful manner, though, as his arms aren’t in contact with you because they’re both on the table.

So you have no choice but to put up with the sensation of his breath tickling the back of your neck, and the heat that seeps from his thighs and settles into you.

You feel imprisoned in his cage... On this set.

And, you start to appreciate the little things, like the thicker material covering your flesh, since it seems like your skin is getting uncomfortably slippery under your dress.

Your back is glued to his chest, and his calm demeanor calms you down from the words and deeds of everyone around you—including the real extras from the close-up tables that swarm the set, adding realism to the scene and heightening the atmosphere.

You feel him place his hand on your thigh, something he has never done in previous takes of the scene, but he immediately lifts it. And as he moves his hand, the smooth surface of your dress wrinkles at the drag, making your heart want to leap out of your rib cage.

You lean forward until your elbows rest on the table in an attempt to escape the heat transfer that is becoming too strong between your bodies. More than that, there seems to be an off-energy between you two today that you can’t quite put your finger on. In either case, you’re unable to escape as his hand wraps around your waist and draws you back toward him. Simultaneously, it feels like his cold breath is making love to your throat as it swoops around your neck.

And so, you stay like this… in his arm... until he decides it’s enough, but Eunseok isn’t one to give up easily, so things continue this way. You simply can’t protest because that would ruin the scene.

However, even after going over the same scene several times, it didn’t stick, so the director agreed to let you unwind for the next few hours so that you could focus on the following scene.

And as absurd as it sounds, you might need to expend all of your energy on the next scene. You’ve become tired not just from your long work hours and endlessly repeated dialog lines, but also from being in too much close contact with him. And not to mention that the scene that follows is—

A loud “Action!” comes from somewhere across the room, past the cameras. You’re even deprived of the opportunity to summon all your bravery and take a deep breath. There is nothing you can do about the scene that is already in motion except follow your sync with Eunseok wherever it leads.

This time, the location is a 2nd floor room inside the casino with a glassed view of the floor below where all the ‘magic’ happens. In technical terms, the space you’re in right now is referred to as a ‘control room.’

Control…..

With just the two yellow-toned lamps—one in the corner and one on the metal desk—the room is completely soundproof and somewhat dim. Additionally, the window glass also only sees out but not in, which promises that all intimacy will be trapped inside and not let out.

…. If only you were allowed the right amount of privacy,

but this is a film set, so naturally there are people inside who practically monitor every move you and Eunseok make in great detail.

They… Control…..

His suit jacket, which he had on earlier in the casino, is now draped across the brown leather couch, giving you more intimate time together and expanding his range of motion. And it’s all done purposefully. Everything is a part of the plan, as he’s deliciously in tune with your dress, too.

His glistening velvet suit with diamond motifs fits the ‘rival notion,’ making him an ideal opponent—a fierce equal match for you. This is also reflected in the movie’s concept, which is to give the impression that this is a ‘pair game’ in which both of you are lying in order to get to the big ‘price.’

And all it takes to get there is for you to hurt each other in the process. There are jokes exchanged, teasing remarks, some lighter, some harsher, some even more vulgar, and swear words are thrown around, but neither of your characters ever lets up their confident façade. For they would be falling behind and losing the game if that were to occur.

As you gaze out the window, Eunseok is leisurely leaning against the desk, moving a silver-foil Ace of Hearts card between his black leather-gloved fingers and watching you.

The games themselves give an adrenaline rush, and the lavish, spacious hall downstairs draws in gamblers, but the whole point of the script for him is that you’re a thrill sight and his object of desire. For someone made of steel, your whole sense of appeal lies in the fact that you steal his breath.

The sleek black strapless velvet dress you’re wearing seems to be romanticized by the fake diamonds around the base of your neck. Your smoked eyes and glossed lips are your core points. You don’t long to impress. Your power lies in your strength and independence, but it’s also in elegance, solace, and trance. Another line says, ‘Simplicity is a killer,’ and you certainly are.

However, beneath it all, only you’re aware of how much of a mess you are because he is currently examining you.

... Still, it’s only acting. Eunseok is merely performing in his role as an actor. And, when acting, one can’t really let one’s true self show. As a result, cameras won’t be able to capture how hot you really feel inside or how confused; all you can hope for is that you don’t mess up your next set of lines.

And it’s that scene in the script where everything has built to a climax, and nothing is held back!

When neither of you can decide what brought you together—your shared dislike or your shared goal—and neither of you can explain the bad cues and inexplicable tension.

Where your personal schemes about who will get the ‘shiny stones’ first are screwed by your shared greed and cynicism.

When you two almost simultaneously blow up each other’s plans.

And wherein, in order to make this work for at least one of you, you have selected a room to talk about the remaining options. In this case, the smarter one will really only be the meaner one.

This finally concludes the exchange of hurtful comments; there will be no more!

The door is the most attractive option, and the room is perfectly silent. However, it simply indicates that the first person out has raised the white flag and signed their lost. It’s impossible for either of you to succumb so easily.

Simultaneously, your character is the first to break the dense silence.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

With a rephrased and pointed question, “Where are you going with this?,” you look up at him then, looking a little disappointed and angry at the same time.

Coolly, Eunseok teases, “I’m trying to figure out if I should call it quits.”

As an actor would, his hair is styled to perfection, and the two hair strands that fall into his eyes and give him a luscious appearance are actually just the result of the tireless efforts of the hair and makeup artists who never stop running after him.

You find yourself ‘out of set’ for a split second, wondering what he’s like by himself. How he appears when he wakes up in the morning, how his hair looks after taking a shower, and how his body is dressed in a baggy, worn-out shirt rather than rich pajamas. However, that’s rather a ‘faraway’ Eunseok.

But the present, Eunseok, does he read you?

“You’re only saying that. But I won’t take the bait from you.” Your character is merely attempting to remind his of how he deceived you during the previous poker round. “In fact, I wish you saw you from my view. You ain’t all that, you know?”

Eunseok’s cool and calm demeanor remains unshaken. In fact, he just keeps on getting cocky. Given that you’re affecting him in ways he doesn’t understand, it’s in his character's self-defense mechanism as a means of continuing to taunt your character.

“Really,” he responds, crossing his gloved hands. His vest lifts at his tiny waist, and he tilts his head to one side in a seductive manner. The tone of his voice has been pre-calculated; every syllable has been worked on in detail. His precision in looking at you, moving, and facial expressions is unparalleled.

“See, I’m good for the ego,” his words come across as too sultry, even though he’s the most soft-spoken he has ever been, “but I’m bad for the soul.”

If you two weren’t in front of the cameras, you’d have closed your eyes and allowed his words to give you goosebumps all over your body, but now isn’t the time to do that.

Not that they aren’t doing it already, either...

They’re actually doing that in real time. His voice, his eyes, and his tongue that digs and crawls at the inside of his cheek.

Just a cold-blooded actor. With every take, this terrifyingly skilled individual sends chills down your spine. You almost get the impression that he’s seriously flirting with you because of how excellently he is delivering his role. Nevertheless, the line is exceedingly thin, and the narrative is already in the script. Is it not?

You protest, looking frustrated, saying, “Your games are endless,” yet still simultaneously approaching him more closely to show that you aren’t afraid of him.

Actually, you and him are on the same level. And to add spice to the situation, you say, “However, this time, we both know that you’re going to lose.”

Waving the metallic Ace of Hearts card in your face, his quick silver tongue catches your attention as it runs along his lips. In an attempt to look impressive and put an end to the questions, Eunseok nonchalantly admits, “I like the games I play.”

Although you must maintain your image and stay in character, all you really want is for all of this to end. You can’t take this and him anymore, like the weeks of filming together have reached a breaking point. You want to scream, ‘Cut!’ to put an end to this suffering, but you can’t fail your dream or let your character down either.

It’s as though you’re developing feelings for someone who isn’t even real. As though you are losing all feeling of reality as you observe him from up close. And because you know what is coming up next, you’re damn sure that Eunseok will take a piece of you with him when the lights go out and the cameras stop rolling, and everything is said and done.

Trouble…

It’s in his perfectly lethal-hued dark eyes. In the way the lamp light hits his eyes that makes him look so enticing, like a glass of whiskey on a thirsty day of never being enough. Intoxicating. Mysterious. Dangerous. A glass of trouble, really, and you’re fastly becoming a growing alcoholic.

The narrative he tells you hurts as his words continuously fall from his gorgeous lips and seep into your thoughts and emotions like melted wax.

“The truth is, you can’t get enough of me.” Eunseok’s same eye-level with you decreases as he straightens up from the desk and now gazes a little down at you, imposing a slight dominance. He lifts his gloves, causing some veins in his arms to bulge between where the gloves end and his white rolled dress shirt begins.

Without consent, his gloved fingers begin to crawl upward the inside part of your naked arm, waking goosebumps on their way. The trace is slow and faint, but that is exactly what he wants—for you to disintegrate bit by bit.

“Admit it,” he prompts.

He’s being pretty sadistic and adamant by insisting that you know that he knows how you feel about him; which is precisely the situation, and it leaves you feeling so exposed.

And it’s as if his proximity, presence, and dominance have completely eroded you, your character ‘breaks character’ as it succumbs to his dark charms.

You two are so close that you can understand each other perfectly, even in whispers right now. So you fire back in a private voice, “If I cared more about the truth,” miserable and defeated, “I’d be too aware of who was using who.”

In response, all he does is smirk,

and after making his way to your shoulders, he subtly brushes his thumb along your collarbone. Heat is generated by the tiny friction, and much like a fire match is struck, it ignites sparks in the air.

His hand then moves to brush some hairs away from your face and tuck them behind your ear. The black leather of his glove begins to skim first, then caress your delicate skin and the left side of your face.

His eyes pierce your soul like a knife, so you look from them to his lips, breaking eye-contact. They lust for touch and have a unique, attractive shape.

“Stop!” You voice out in shock at what he’s doing, but do nothing. His gloved fingertips continue to graze your face.

“Wonderfull,” he comments silently.

Your brain is fried...

And while in a daze, you notice that his tie is a little loose around his collar.

For some reason, this makes you feel compelled to tighten it, sealing the last bit of separation between the two of you. Eunseok’s brows furrow in concern as he realizes that this isn’t at all included in the script. Although this is blatant improvisation, the performance must continue as long as the director doesn’t yell cut.

You can understand why his free hand, which lends on your waist, is gripping you so tightly and nervously. He kind of breaks his neck shyly smiling away from you before turning back to face you...

Again, something the scene steps don’t cover.

“It was out of pl—”

‘ace,’ it’s what you attempt to offer as an explanation while the camera is rolling, but you don’t finish saying it... Your mouth stays agape in contrast.

You opened it with an intention, got distracted, and now you hold it open with a fresh thought.

...Him.

Your lip gloss is a mirror of his tiny diamond-studded vest’s sparkle, as are his eyes, which reflect your phoney diamond necklace.

‘How’d you get so pretty?’ Your mind stutters and your body shudders, yet the line is plain to see as it’s painted on your lips—ready to perform, ready to be spoken. How do you allow yourself to say it, though?

But for real, when did his lips become this pretty?

It’s challenging to discern which aspect of yourself feels and which acts. There is a messed-up intersection where your character throbs with the need to kiss his character, and you throb with the need to kiss him.

Can he feel it? Are you obvious? Does anyone in the room have the ability to see right through you, as though you’re a transparent bottle filled with all these bottled wicked wants and needs?

Under the necklace, the skin on your neck contracts, relaxes, and contracts once more.

Your lips begin to quiver as the cold leather finally slides beneath your chin. Lifting it, your eyes are drawn back to meet his. You’re painfully aware that it’ll only take a single kiss to weaken a million truths.

“Fuck,” he utters as he begins to brush your lips, causing the leather to become sticky from the shiny gloss.

Taking back his hand, he starts to rub and then separate his thumb and index finger, examining the degree of stickiness between them. He sighs, “You’re making me want to suggest that we steal those stones together.”

“I’m not stealing any stones with y—”

“I know, I know,” he says, interrupting. “But almost…”

Eunseok looks directly at you and presses his tacky gloved thumb to his lips.....

The flawless pair of strands that get in the way of his eyes symbolize his seriousness while his tongue begins to pick up and taste any bits of whatever is still on his lips…

The intimacy is revolting, but you aren’t even given a chance to die from all the obscenities he’s doing as he continues.

“You are,” his voice becomes quieter as he speaks, “almost making me want to do it.”

His lips draw nearer. His breath is what you inhale.

“Almo—”

As soon as his lips touch yours, the rest of the sentence disappears. Just as your glittery, dark eyeshadow is captured in perfect detail on camera, his splattered letters perfectly entangle in your mouth.

Unsurprisingly, he gives you a desperate kiss with hands that dig into your waist.

The greatest corruption imaginable is a kiss that says, “If you aren’t mine, then I’m making you mine!” A kiss that puts your life and breath in danger. A kiss that tears through the façade and the acting mask, growing ever more dangerously real.

What’s worse is that having spent so much time with him, it’s so evident when he’s unable to pretend. And currently, he surely cannot!

He cannot act as though his lips aren’t needy or that his skin isn’t becoming hotter. Or that when he pulls your body more into his and presses his tongue deeper inside your mouth, his body isn’t trembling just a little bit.

Your hands slip off his shoulders and latch onto this vest, tugging on it just a little bit, even hanging on to it desperately for the life he’s stealing from you.

His heart is pounding beneath your hand, which is hard to comprehend considering that an actor with his level of training shouldn’t even flinch when filming a kissing scene. More so than anyone else, Eunseok exudes an air of magnetism despite being largely composed of steel. The fact that you’re seeing him partially fall apart for the first time is mind-boggling.

It’s truly insane what only a kiss can reveal. And of anything, it isn’t fast. For this is something that you should feel, just as the audience should when it’s their turn.

You whine his character’s name in between kisses, only slightly conscious that you’re still in the heat of filming this scene. However, he just hushes you, nuzzles your nose gently against his, and continues. His low, pretty pants and foul moans layer at your throat, just as yours in his.

Given how far out of script you two are at this point, you’re certain the director has had enough by now and will call it quits at any moment, but that never happens.

It’s gross how much of Eunseok’s tongue encircles yours while his cute nose wrinkles and brushes against yours. It all makes you want him even more. For the worst part, he smiles through it. It’s quite vile since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You can feel his lips burn from the constant, wild collisions. And his scent seeps into your nostrils. That much is certain: it’ll be difficult to forget this—to forget him.

“Do you—Do you?” he stammers, pressing his lips to yours as he breathes heavily and squeezes your waist so forcefully that you fear his hands will split you in two.

Since it’s an entirely improvised line, he eventually comes up with the right combination of words. “Have you indulged in this fantasy before? Have you—Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Even though Eunseok’s words are already weighing heavily on your heart and lips, he adds even more bitterness by saying, “You definitely have.” He answers his own question by not even giving you an opportunity to respond.

But then, is it untrue?

Of course not, as you feel the weakness in your knees. You find it somewhat unfair that he has granted himself a space where he’s fusing reality and fiction.

You fight, “It’s—” while making an effort to escape and resist his lips, “It’s just this time,” but it’s mediocre at best.

As you step back away from him, his hands hopelessly slip off your waist and slide back to his side. They appear empty-looking, as though they don’t own anything of value, like something was snatched from their possession.

Now, empty handed, Eunseok is back gripping the metal of the desk. It isn’t like it’s just you who is feeling the effects of those frenzied kisses; he has definitely lost his breath too. His lips are pretty roused and ‘used-looking’, much like after an intense makeout, while the tips of his ears throb as they peek out from under his dark hair.

He somewhat manages to come up with another line even though his fairly strong defensive system is down.

“Then perhaps it’s just been my imagination all those times I thought I felt you thinking about me.”

Your mouth drops open at the same time as the director cries out,

“CUT! Beautiful! Beautiful!” He waves his hands in all directions proudly. “That take was spot-on perfect; we’re done here. I got everything I want here”, he says, tapping the big camera that some other guy is holding, and also exclaiming, “One take. It only took one take!” with excitement. “Excellent improvisation! Reshooting would only sour the spark.” He then successfully clasps his hands and says, “That’s a wrap, everyone!”

You’re left standing in front of Eunseok, glassy-eyed, quite sensitive, and shocked, but optimistic that what the two of you just did is still partially justified by your acting profession.

It looks like he’s blinking more than normal; and blinking is undoubtedly one of the patterns Eunseok exhibits when he’s nervous, which you’ve noticed throughout the months that you’ve been working with him. He also seems to be in denial, with confused lines painted on his temple.

Both him and you stay motionless while looking at each other as the director talks about the scene with a different staff member, his voice only sounding faint and far away in your ear.

“I like a good chase in a scene. To me, that’s everything. The actors must have a compelling chemistry and be aware of their roles. They must have trust in each other and their actions, because making a film is similar to a construction site, it must be built. It’s more than a camera, lights, and action.” Taking off his baseball cap, he gives himself a head stretch. “Trust me… what these two have is lethal.”

The longer the director keeps making observations, the more of the ‘real’ Eunseok is in your presence. Adorable, nervous smiles, head turns, and motions; knitted brows that enlarge his eyes even more. It’s as if he has softened his human side, opened his heart, and ‘thrown his metallic armour away.’

Finally, after hearing the comments, he sort of hisses with a ‘Really?’ while tilting his head to the side and putting on a cute, sarcastic look of suspicion.

“Are you okay?” You ask him in a gentle tone, concerned because it appears he’s thinking through and repeating every step of the scene.

He nods, but his face still wears that expression of shock mixed with denial, and a slight, but still noticeable, shy spark in the far back of his ever so silver persona. It seems like he’s coming to terms with everything that just happened, and he’s still quite riding out the wave.

Now that he has had a taste of how you kiss, it’s quite impeccable how you can bite down like an enemy and later be tender to all of those marks like a friend.

You’re high-key giving him so much more to think about—so many more thoughts to deal with than what the sight of you in your dress had already done for him up to this point.

‘Romance’ slash ‘No Control’ slash ‘Trouble!’

So many twists and turns until the conclusion, but the scene is now over.

The drama is done. The ‘acting’?

Done!

You’ll be taking off your makeup and dressing down, but the characters you just played will still exist within the both of you. That despite the fact that it seems like you two will be avoiding dealing with this for the time being, you’re both actors, and currently, the cost of your acting is your sanity.

Starting today, heartthrob actor Eunseok won’t only continue to cause headaches to the millions of girlies who have his posters hung above their beds, but to you as well.

‘.....Nice.’

#riize #eunseok #song eunseok #riize scenarios #riize fanfic #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize fic #riize x y/n #riize fluff #riize suggestive #eunseok x reader #eunseok scenarios #eunseok imagines #eunseok fluff #eunseok fanfic #song eunseok fanfic #riize oneshots

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

Text

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy.

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes.

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again.

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night.

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up.

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke.

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings.

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least.

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful.

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock.

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt.

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.)

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him.

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting.

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked.

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly.

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question.

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again.

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.”

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup.

You weren’t so lucky.

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest.

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror.

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to.

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck.

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny.

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.”

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper.

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance.

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice.

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea.

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach.

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.”

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up.

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear.

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return.

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily.

Naturally, Jason followed you.

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you.

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health.

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you.

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again.

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly.

You sighed with deep annoyance.

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.”

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist.

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was.

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night.

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow.

He simply chuckled.

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep.

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning.

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again.

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest.

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long.

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in.

But he was playing to win.

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice.

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.”

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again.

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you.

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin.

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet.

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more.

And he was going to make you beg for it.

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling.

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off.

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?”

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point.

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.”

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied.

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too.

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue.

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him.

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you.

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky.

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep.

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw.

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you).

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax.

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move.

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?”

That. Little. Shit.

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face.

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed.

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly.

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?”

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice.

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won.

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.”

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him.

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought.

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside.

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp.

“Jason!”

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop.

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away.

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot.

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still.

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more.

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock.

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder.

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny.

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you.

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more.

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need.

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly.

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him.

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been.

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.”

That was when you broke.

At least you hadn’t given in too easily.

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.”

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly.

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do.

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well.

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply.

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again.

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.”

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body.

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear.

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you.

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed.

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite.

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury.

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you.

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently.

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him.

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.”

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt.

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up.

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal.

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.”

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again.

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you.

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment.

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.”

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed.

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

...

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